Bored at the desk

The duty and the honour

Of working and walking

While all i see

Is time going by

With no flavour.

Patiently i shout and consider

Possibilities and present chances

Inventing a new setting

For me, for us,

Where time is only in the background

And not so abundant.

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Spaghetti drug

Spaghetti at the end of the adventure
In the evening of a Friday
With a bitter taste.
Sneaky but friendly
The pasta wraps me and my doubts
While the future holds a secret.

Nest building

Mouth full of twigs
I cannot speak not smile
Whole flying to my near.
I build out each day,
And my uncomfortable today
Is a loved step ahead.

Christmas time

I feel no cold in me
At Christmas time.
The weeks waiting
and the colours of the fire
Make me anticipate its value each year
And now is September
And I am already holding the calendar.

Carrot dance

Carrots dance on the window sill
Watching my spaghetti getting dressed
For the party.
I touch and feel
The richness and roughness of the pasta
That brings sun into my home.

Home prize

The arrival home
Is a proper for the intense day
As the boiling stew expects
a smile and a daily achievement.
The day closes sweet and homey
After hours in the artificial world
That takes your breath away.

5 August, 2017 07:45

bunch of small tiny pink roses and buds
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