Trimming

He set out to the task at hand
Upon watching the beautiful tree.
Trimming the branches, one by one,
In a labour of love.
One by one, slowly,
The branches fell to the floor.
The outer ones, the inner ones, all fell
But one, and he stopped there,
Knowing that it held
The handkerchief with the red stain.
And although he could not cut it then,
He said to himself that, next time,
This one too would come off,
And the tree stand bare and beautiful,
Revealing her forbidden fruit.

Forbidden

I stand at the gates of the forbidden city.
The doors are open, but i stand still.
A foot at the threshold is all i manage
Before i notice the ghost of the guard.
Yet his face smiles, his arms are open,
His spear down at his feet lies.
Shall i step further in to the walls
Knowing the guard is sound asleep
Oblivious his city is falling from him?
Or shall i cry for him to come
And fight for his city before it crumbles
Beneath my relentless assault?
Maybe i should turn around,
Leave untouched such amazing place
And the treasure that within lies?
Inside the crumbling walls
Of the forbidden city.

Masks II

I'm wearing
A mask
Of a friend.
I didn't borrow it,
It was not given to me.
Still I wear it,
Of my own volition.
For that is the price
I pay
To be near.
I'm wearing
My mask
Of a friend.