A Social Phobic's Interpretation & Decoration of Poetical Ideas, Messages, Information and Resources.

Posts tagged ‘tree’


warm sunshine,
a little room,
white curtains fluttering,
reflection of small yellow flowers,
in the glass window,
oh it’s summertime,
the yard’s full of flowers,
the sycamore tree blooming,


Rays of sunlight soft and tender,
stingy or shy,
traces of west wind,
scrimpy or bitter,
tall ginkgo trees,
a vast forest,

The sound of flute

The dark blue sea,

a town of trees,

of red bricks and tiles,

sitting in the shade of a tree,


listening to the sweet sound of the flute,

the playful waves,

they come and disturb,

from time to time,


Random thoughts

I know deeply,

that a leaf wants to stay green,

to not fall,

to stay on the branch,

a little longer,

i understand deeply,

that a grass,


Some thoughts on life

A big towering tree on the mountaintop,

it has slowly grown up,

it seems to be still a young tree,

yet it contains a trace of vigorous hope.

A soaring eagle in the wide blue sky,

feathers and wings growing increasingly strong,

and it seems to be still a young eagle,

yet it is bursting through the clouds,

with passionate madness.

Grass on the roadside,

breaking through the soil quietly,

it seems to be a little scared,

yet the feeling is mixed with,

an indomitable force.



i see flowers,

opening up the old diary,

the language of it,

no longer fresh,


memories of the past,

looking back,

at every tree,

thoughts and longings galore,

branches and leaves,

always related to the seasons,


day or night,

a cup of tea,

a deep breath,

tasting the day,


and yet,

still so sweet.

Summertime of May

It’s May,
what a fragrant season,
a love nest that accomodates many many dreams,
the pond of lovesickness,
in the city of May,
vacant feathers shining bright,
in the eyes,
everything beautiful,
implanted into the scenery,
sitting in a painting,
with a beautiful mind,
sweet as honey ,
beautiful watered branches of May,
circular dream stretching its tantacles,
for the love of all things,
the summer explores,
golden fireflies traveling,
white butterflies flying,
out of the dream,
an enchanted moment in the cocoon,
a burst of heavy rain from heaven,
like rolling stones,
tied with good news,
birds sleeping soundly in the grass,
they start flapping their wings,
to shake off dewdrops on thier feathers,
they want to fly,
on the branches of May,

the breeding of ,

many beautiful fantasies,

the sound of bird,

crashes the sky,

creeps into dreams,

hanging the most beautiful fantasy,

onto the branches of May,

all souls,


and desires,

like the seeds lost,

from the mouths of birds,


and sprouting,

in May.

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