Write to me, and tell me what you think!

lofty_lue@yahoo.com

But not through speech for that

Is not my gift. Words spoken are difficult,

But written words flow lik a river.

The river is beautiful and simple

Yet elegently flowing constantly.

My dream remains to let the river flow

And flow it shall whether people know or not.

I can see the greens and blues of the forest.

I can see the reds, yellow, and oranges

Of a sunrise giving birth to a sunset.

Words gently flow, smoothly written words

Describing the forest, the sun. Making

The paper hear the sweet birds song.

The first exlporer, he didn't see

The forest buried within me.

The second one, he didn't try,

Not even once, and fell awry.

The third was blind and didn't pack,

He tried with pain strapped to his back.

He made his way, careful, untrue.

He trie and couldn't compare to you.

This one stepped aside,

But he also lied.

I gave him my trust,

Which turned into a but.

He made friends with the forest,

But didn't try and bored us.

The forth was you,

The one so true.

When you tried, you made it through

And found I was a person too.

With you I think, I found myself

Only to find I was only an elf.

A tiny elf in a giant's suit.

You mined and got to the loot.

And I was hiding it deep,

But you decided to take a peep.

You found the trails winding round,

Then almost turned away, turned right around,

But instead you stayed and gave me love,

You made your way from the world above.

You wanted to see the real true me,

You got lost sometimes, but found the key.

You knew you lied, and told me so,

My trust was tested from head to toe.

My fears weren't false, they were true,

My trust remained for I loved you.

You found the key to come inside,

Now your with me, right by my side.

My love still grows, buit I still fear,

That you'll up and leave from here.

So untill then I'll try and be happy,

Right by your side, and I'll be happy.

It grows from deep down.

A feeling more beautiful

Than a meadow of wild flowers.

It blooms where simple things grow,

Where trust and comfort dwell,

And where it is nourished deep down.

This thing can bind people together,

Stronger than steel and more maleable than puddy.

More beautiful than a human face, more ugly than hatred.

The word descibing it is too simple,

The humans, they call it love.

Than nasty boss of happiness and pain.

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