Pure green

Escaped from the lab coat,

Devoid of ask analytic tools,

I dive into the garden

And let geometries of leaves

And flying perfumes surprise me.

They narrate a story

Written only for me

That will take me away

For the most precious moment of the day.

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Tired hands

Refill these hands

That worked hard and bled today

To add beauty and respect

To old clothes.

Hands not smooth and not shy

That travel quick through the stitches

And join the borders of a hot Sunday.

Give them water, a shake, and a rest

In your lap

Until fresh again.

Future today

What hides in the grass

Grown in this day of transition?

Fruits like Easter eggs

Are hard to see,

Yet precious and rewarding

For the eye of the naïve.

Work, health, friends, emails, future plans

Are ripening hidden in the green

Of hope and routine.

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.

Office magnet

My stomach a fist

When entering the door

Of predigested decisions

And bland ideas.

The tiny speckle of hope

And possibility of self expression

keeps me going

In and out.

Fantasy cosy

I twist my time

Advocating for everybody

Ok this synthetic office chair.

I forget my story,

While I actively and furiously write it

Reach moment.

Frustrated by inaction,

I surrender to fantasy.

Autumn vibes

Get up and get inspired
In this opaque autumn day
That has nothing reserved in its poor pockets
Just for you.
Grab these dead red leaves
And colour your way to work.
Get spinned by this wind of change
And hold on
To those who know love.