4 liner

Four lines I have to tell my tale,
And now i have but two.
It seems my friend you'll have to wait,
For now, my lines are through.

A whisper in the wind

It is a breath that no one breathes,

It is the sigh of mother Earth.

It is a whisper in the leaves,

A tell-tale gust of depthless worth.

It is a song that nature sings,

It is a traveller of the land.

It is a bird with endless wings,

An airy ghost of no command.

It is a rage that consumes us all,

A tempestuous angry beast.

It is a calm we none can forestall,

A being we know of least.

And when we breathe a breath of air,

We’re taking into us,

A force we had not best ensnare,

Hence we release it thus.

In Memory...

A Little Girl...

There once was a girl who dared to dream.
Her thoughts did shimmer, her hopes did gleam.
But as she grew, the dream she sought,
Got harder and harder but on she fought.

The dream she sought was to change the world,
She'd heard of death and with fingers curled,
That girl got up and changed the world.
For better, for worse her dreams unfurled.

She gave her life, her love her home,
To those who had none, it would be their own.
Her dreams accomplished, her hopes set free,
That girl grew up quite happily.

Then one day in a tower tall,
An areoplane did crush the wall.
The tower fell, it's twin went too,
The lives of thousands were suddenly through.

The whole world cried for lives now lost,
To lose a loved one is a terrible cost.
Life's to unknown to not do good,
Laugh, Live, Love...

We all should.

The Abyss

I can't be seen for I am not there,
I have no shadow, no burden I bear.
I can be found in the abyss,
Floating on dreams, where nothings amis.

I'm seen by those who do not look,
I give me to those I have not took.
I can be found in the abyss,
Sitting on stars and lending my bliss.

I am that which takes time to grow,
Something which everyone does know.
I can be found in the abyss,
Remember me always do not forget this.

No name I go by,
But some call me love.
No day I shall die,
I watch over above. 

The Ripple Of A Journey...

A travellers eyes seek wisdom,
A journey to behold,
The horizons and the oceans
tell of mysteries old.

Of lands that yet had to be named,
Of seas that none had sailed.
The births and deaths and many dreams
Of endeavours that had failed.

The building of a nation,
The founding of a home,
It's what our travellers look for,
While they fly and sail and roam.

Their final destination,
Will remain unknown.
For travellers do not realise
When they have found a home.

They will search amoung the waves,
Till time itself does stop.
The turning of the planet,
The ticking of the clock.

Their journey? It will reach it's end,
They shall embrace their fate.
While the mysteries of the deep,
Lie eternally in wait.

Zentangleitis...

This is my second zentangle in two hours! I think I have caught Zentangleitis! Well, I think that zentangling is 'my thing' and something that I really enjoy doing. This is my latest zentangle which is a bit different from the other two. I'm not quite sure how yet, but whenever I compare it to the others, something seems... changed...
Well, here it is...!

Mandella Zentangle...

This is my first attempt at a Mandella Zentangle. I was 'inspired' to draw it after watching a video of how. I think they are really great to draw when you feel like relaxing and letting your mind wander. Here is mine...

Some rainy day drawing...

It was raining when I drew this, so I've decided that it's a raindrop. You could call it a tear I suppose, it just didn't really seem appropriate at the time...

I repeated quite a few pattens in this doodle, as I Wasn't feeling particularly inspired to search for more.

This is inspired by a photo I took of a blue spotted Orchid.

The First Zentangle...

I first heard about Zentangles through mum. They are a random little (or big) doodles that you draw in pen only. You are meant to just empty your mind and draw whatever little squiggles happen across your mind. Here is my first attempt at a Zentangle. It took me three days, because I kept getting bored of drawing the same old pattern over and over! However, I am pleased with the end result...

What Do We Search For?

I wrote this as a question. What do we search for? What is it that we, as humans, search for in life? Here is the poem that is so far, my favorite...

'What do we search for?'

Age defies wisdom,

The wise mans word.

The call of wisdom,

I have not yet heard.

But what do we search for?

The wise man asks.

The knowledge of all things,

Of wisdom's mask?

Yet if we don't find it,

What will we do?

Our life would have been pointless,

Once it was through.

But if we do find it,

The wisdom we seek.

What would we do with it?

Life would be bleak.

The wise man found wisdom,

So search we must.

All through the ages,

Till our bones are dust.

But...

If you ask the wise man of the wisdom you seek,

The knowledge you search for,

The answers you drink.

He will tell you you've found it.

And you will wonder how.

So when you sit back and reflect on your search,

For knowledge and wisdom and destiny's perch.

You will discover that it's the journey that counts

The paths you take, it all amounts.

For the paths that you choose and the roads that you take,

They all contribute to the journey you make.

For the paths that you choose and the roads that you take,

They are the wisdom for which you ache.

After the Storm...

This is a poem I wrote, as you  may have guessed, after a storm.

'After the Storm...'

The rain falls softly in the trees,

Whose branches dance in the breeze,

Blue skies have turned palest grey,

In the Breeze long grass does sway.

The sodden earth shines wet and cold,

The thunder booms of storiese old,

The creatures hide in shelters dark,

Their small soft footprints leave no mark.

Amidst the cold and wet and night,

A beacon is found, shining bright.

For even if blow does the storm,

One thing shall remain the norm...

The storm will always go away,

And after comes a fresh new day.

Where bees will buzz and birds will sing,

And sun will shine on everything.

Needing a Name...

This is a poem that I wrote a while ago. It is nameless as yet. so please, if you can think of a relevant title, it would be great, thankyou and enjoy!

Words plaster the ceiling like fairy floss on a childs fingers,

Fate swirls around the room like seaweed in a current,

Hope hovers in front of the window like a wasp on a humid day,

And destiny swallows them all like a starving animal presented with love.

Imagination runs wilder than a brumby,

Dreams fly higher than the clouds,

Failures sink lower than the sea bed,

And nothing forces them to do this.

Shoot for the moon,

For even if you miss...

You shall land amoung the stars.