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Norwegian Wood

I walk amongst the trees but who is there to hear?

I whisper and let my voice rustle the leaves until their tremors cease.

Hoarse and weary, not heard, not seen, I wonder if I have ever been. 

A Norwegian hillside, a Norwegian wood, I sing your song.

Hear me.

There is much talking but who is there ever to hear?

In life, I roar silently as people pass, unseeing.

Soundless, I mo...

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Norwegiannot listeningsilencetreeswood

She spoke words of nonsense and he nodded accordingly

entry picture





Stubborn as he was,

And was he stubborn? Yes.

He didn’t want to pull his

                                                claws in.

Though he knew it for the best.

He picked a poppy,

                              Stole a rose,

And ran laughing all the way home,


       wee wee,


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