the field at the bottom of the garden belongs to the cattle
its their food
large beasts with a gentle nature, unless you get too close to their calves
vegetarians of the first order, munching the grass,
each winter they are housed in the big barn, it must seem like forever.
Its good to see them roam the island, its more their island than ours in a way, they have their unique society, some are more friends than others, but they all belong to the herd.
Being an outsider, ' A Ferrylouper' the locals call us, 'someone who came over on the ferry' you never do quite fit in, a Bull brought over for stud is more accepted, just the way things are, I guess.

I get lost in your kiss
                   Yet feel at home on your **lips

I want you to remember me
With a flower in my hair
Rolling down our green hill
With a childish smile on my face.

I want you to remember me
With no shadow on a sunny day
Dancing like a butterfly...
Look my perky colors,I would say.
With a childish smile on my face

I want you to remember me
Like you never know me before
Like i felt, hiding the beauty of myself
From the hunters shadow.

I want you to remember me
As someone who finally got the courage
At least to show it
through some simple words on paper
the colerfull poetry of my soul.

I want you to have that childish smile
When you searching for the memories
Remembered long time ago
About a butterfly with perky colors.

M.T. 2016.

Sometimes
When I sit on the edge of hill
Taking the fresh air
Mixed with sea salt
And smell of some foreign lands

I Think in myself
This is all what I need

Sometimes
When I lie on fresh cut grass
Leting my body to connect
To the beginning of my self
And feeling the tickles of other beings

I think in myself
That's all what I need.

Sometimes
When I give my hand to a stranger
Or just a lovley word for his tired soul
Seeing his thankful guard
and smile on his face

I Think in myself
That's all what I need.

I think in myself often
How beatiful this world could be
If everyone could just open
And go back to the place
Where they are free.

M.T. 2016

Poetry has a sensitive soul
A drive and impulse
Telling stories the way they are
Feelings of soberness
A heart felt word

Poetry has a sensitive heart
Beautifully immense
A heart of gold
Giving values to life
Adding years to life: Poetry is beautiful

Poetry has a sensitive soul
Like streams that meanders slowly
Like a river glorious: It Flows
Poetry has a sensitive heart,
A beautiful soul; A flying Angel.

Poetry is the signal
that
The soul sends into the world
Like the river, it flows into the sea,
yet the sea never gets filled.

Poetry is the fluid for the soul,
The liquid for the yearning of the Mind
That which quenches the fire
Feeding the deepest desires
Poetry is Gold in essence

Ovi Odiete©

I look for you
In passing faces
A stranger's glance
In haunted places

I feel you among
Nature's grandest setting
It is you that I remember
Even when I'm forgetting

I see you wherever I go
In everyone I meet
Your words echo in conversations
That pass me on the street

Your soft, easy way
That safe familiar tone
That always takes me back
To a time long gone

I see your pain
I see the solitude hidden in your eyes
The pain that no one noticed
Let me in
Let your thoughts dream
The dreams of possibilities that can come true
That's what makes life so intriguing