A Seed The seed of doubt once planted, Will soon become a fruit And once a lie has been told One cannot trust the truth. Whispered rumours started Are not so easily stopped And once my ears have reached, By the truth it cannot be topped. For with the onset of doubt A lack of faith here comes And without the faith inborn to rely on All sense suspicion numbs. The seed of doubt should not be watered Nor should it be weeded out This evil seed should ne'er be planted This evil seed named doubt.

As We Grow Older As we grow older, We grow apart. The joys of yesterday now seem childish, Our talks of the future mere fancy. As we grew older, We grew far more distant And smiles Became scowls and frowns. Perhaps when we have grown up, We'll grow to know our mistakes, We'll realise where we went wrong, And you'll grow to love me again.

To Lose My Senses To lose my senses Would be the greatest curse To lose my sight And never see you smile To lose my hearing And never hear you laugh To lose my touch And never feel your skin To lose my smell And never know your scent To lose my taste, And not know strawberry lips.

Mea Domina (My Lady) Mea Domina has hair like spun gold, That tumbles and falls so playful, Curly, wild and free, As untamed and proud as she. Mea Domina has eyes of sparkling green, Sometimes mottled, like forest leaves And at other times almost blue, The turquoise of warm seas. Mea Domina has a mouth of luscious red, Her ruby lips pursed and full, Scarlet in the morning, And claret in the night. Mea Domina has skin of pale peach Ivory in the cold winter, That in the sun turns golden brown, With freckles about her nose. Mea Domina wears the pure of white, As often as the dark of black, The calm of blue or the wild of green, She is a colour all her own, The most beautiful colour Ever seen. -just a quick note from me; Mea Domina is Latin for "my lady', and this is written for my lady, who inspires all of my writing. Thanks for reading.

Some Nights Whisper, Softly Gently to me Lights out, Skin bare Shoulder Smooth Dark room Warm touch Cool breeze Enough Perfect Silence Echoing Around Peaceful Quiet Kiss without A sound. Next night Warmth gone Empty bed And bleak Dark creeps Closer Menacing Not sweet Oppressing And still A night to Hurry through And another And another One more Until Once more Touch is there Soft, gentle And sure And night Passes Easy and Safe With the Touch Of someone Fair.