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Moth He is grey, mottled, brown,Moth by ~Leo-the-fox
Drab in his attire.
A young moth.
He has seen her, so right.
She radiates,
He now waits.
Watches as she shines bright,
Just out of reach.
A pure sun.
He warms himself in her
Beauteous light
He prepares.
His waxy wings at last
Ready to touch
Her warm skin.
He flies. He is erratic
And she is still.
Not too fast.
She does not see him, but
He is blinded.
Only sees her.
He is getting closer.
And she warmer.
Now hotter.
He hovers too close to see her.
She does not see as he burns.
Like a moth too close to a flame.
Icarus, has fallen again.
A Lonely Old Sparrow I went to the window to get a view of the hillA Lonely Old Sparrow by ~Leo-the-fox
And outside my window a lonely old sparrow was sat on the sill.
His feathers were ruffled, his beak was a mess,
His eyes were milky and he had a wound on his chest.
I looked at the bird, full of pity and sorrow
As I seriously doubted the bird would live til tomorrow.
I quietly said "Poor thing, how are you feeling?" As you might do
And the sparrow responded "I'm fine, thanks. How are you?"
"You can talk?" I jumped back, surprised.
"Everything can talk." The old sparrow surmised.
I moved tenderly forward back to my place
And there was the sparrow, staring back at my face!
"You know Mr.
Hopes and Dreams Hopes, are curious things,Hopes and Dreams by ~Leo-the-fox
Often seen at the pool with dreams,
Suckling upon energy and starlight
And nurturing
Themselves in their cushioned world to
Flourish and grow and be realised.
When broken, hopes can again be found
This time wallowing, in the pool of
Self pity and regret, which
Cascades down
Into the river of sorrow, to spend the rest of their
Lives floating around and around in the mind.
Longing 
