Dennennaalden

De lichtjes flikkeren En weerkaatsen op je huid Terwijl het kaarsvet druipt Het is bijna kerstmis Het rood in de boom is warm Muziek klinkt niet al te hard Er liggen dennennaalden her en der Het vlammetje beweegt En de schaduw op de muur Volgt haar ritme  

Wraithlike

A cold foot against the window pane The vapor there quietens back The moment And chill casts its claws Not a soul to be seen in This lost landscape In which also the light of the sun Is lost and is replaced By silence [Sound would have been there Sound was always there The cause…

seizer of syllables

seize the day by grasping the mind poetically by building blocks of words creating symbols of affection you seizer of senses penetrate my soul by this intuitive way of writing making me a person of letters free patterns stressed or not by being part of poetry the feet of verses illuminate the maker of muse…