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Poets aren't special; they are like the rest of us, who catch a rain drop falling on a window pane and turn away to worry about yesterday

I watch you running through the forest Shaking leaves and swaying boughs. I watch you ripple through the long grass Sweet love's passion's so arouse.

I would wait for him forever

Kiss me when I sleep

Discontent and self made allusions

I want to feel you hold me, kiss me, touch me

Stevie took his seat upstairs at the front of the bus, and mentally leaned into the conversation behind him A: "So, you design? You're a designer?" B: ¦¦¦¦¦¦.. A: "You design houses? Have you ever designed a restaurant, or a bar?"

WILBUR WORM AND THE UMBRELLA Wilbur Worm came out of his hole and looked round the garden. Huge raindrops splished and splashed around him, making muddy pools in the lawn and flower beds. "My favourite kind of day, said Wilbur happily, and he set off across the grass to play in the water.

Chains, lips, knives and skin