A human is many colours

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Every mountain has its base and every poet has their muse. It is only fair that they should be acknowledged.

Submitted: July 16, 2012

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Submitted: July 16, 2012



My dear island home,

I bow before your plentiful graces,

You gave me much and as such,

I could not bear the loss of British faces.

Sans vous.


My dear lifelong task,

Great comfort I take in deeper things,

From the Athenian foe, to Dante and Poe,

Lost would I be with no such wings.

Sine te.


My dear guiding light,

Your ways and your values resonate in me,

Every day, it is the martial way,

Deprived and lost I would be.

Senza di te.


My dear base and aid.

You were always there when I needed you most,

From family and friends, pure joy extends,

Thoughts of loss I dare not host.

Ohne dich.


My beloved companion,

Where are you now?

One day to find, our fates entwined?

What is the point without the love you endow?

Without you.



Zen water.

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