Poetry

 

Colored streams of purple
Entangled in the sea
Drifting in the shadows,
Beyond listing time.

Rainbows on the island,
A shore of fantasy,
Sand dunes in the desert,
Blowing the pasts revelations.

Artist’s pictures of a pier,
Standing in the ocean,
Watching the waves,
Without hesitation.

Streets in the brightest lights,
Following the stars,
Still shining in the mist,
A perfect sky.©


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The music in my mind,
Is a conjure of irregularity,
A growth of internal desire,
Appearing to confront me.

The thought begins to hatch,
Needing only nature’s labour,
Through the mist of chaos,
Into a stream of sense.

The child begins to strengthen,
Learning with natural ease,
With whom I have no reasoning,
Composing in curiosity.

The beginning has arrived
As the ending will go on,
The birth is but a re-birth,
As we shall not conclude in death.©


 

19122010300The ivy creeps along the wall,
And binds the years of old,
One leaf for every year.

The soft tear upon her cheek,
Spells sorrows from her heart,
For every tear that falls,
Another falls apart.

 

The lining thread upon her shirt,
Entangles in her hands,
Seemingly no one sees.

So the fingers touch the weary skin,
Of death drawing near,
Soon the fingers rot away,
And death is all but here.©


 

 

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 He touched my hand,
But he wasn’t there,
I heard his voice,
It was a cry in the distance,
I went to move his things,
But they had gone…©


 

 

 

IMAG0105The injured lead the injured,
To the fragment of the wreck,
The dying lead the dying to the sand with no trace.

The hungry lead the hungry,
To the town of no will,
The soldiers lead the soldiers,
To the beach where they kill.

For nothing shall steal the love inside,
We cannot steal what isn’t ours already.©


 

 

Autumn air of love,
Glides on the falling leaves,
She takes a breath of air,
And shelters by the forest.

The dancing rain comes down,
As she turns another page,
Lingering in the distant haze,
Of a key to her lover’s mind.

Fields are stubble bound,
Harvest at an end,
She dreams of love that was,
Seeming to pretend.

Cold is coming soon,
Speaking through her breath,
She wanders over love,
And thinks of love as death.©

Thanks in advance for any photos used. These are a promotional tool, I would gladly mention any photographer by the poem, or remove the picture completely, if requested.

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Nature secretly (song from Cloudburst)

 

 Don’t be scared to love