Basking the scorch,
Of summer’s peak,
The soulful sights,
Bracing breeze,
And the buzzing bees.

Green as far as the eye could see,
One sip of pure nectarine,
A dazzling waltz in nature’s theme,
Sparks a warmth within,
This lucid dream.

Unprecedented to me,
Your presence,
Hold constellations of the cosmos,
Planets of distant suns,
Secrets of the stars

Harsh winds blew through,
In this cold, vast biosphere,
As I alone,
With none but my molted feather coat,
And these webbed pink feet,
Trudged across a paved way in snow,
To a place unknown.

Where lies my new colony,
With newfound friends,
And a family evermore,
Where I shall bear my soul!
Unjudged and beloved.

What an adventure this will be,
Surely not pleasant,
But one rough and obscure,
Where the malicious seals and skuas wait out to ambush.

Eager I was,
To be set free!
“The bright and bold”,
They’d say,
To us,
The youth,
The birds of times to come.

I carry with me,
Creatures and critters,
The moss on branches,
Heaps of soil,
Sunkissed leaves,
They're mine to keep

The sound of her heart it resonates,
In a tunnel endless and wide,
Far to grasp,
And late to reach.

The mind is a lone wanderer,
Perpetually in thought,
Amidst the crowds alike,
Of fantasies untouched,
And faux foresight.

Serpents sung a harrowing tune,
Seeds of sight planted in dune,
Opaque tides,
To hell they sway,
The macabre waltz,
A masquerade.

Treacherousness in the flesh!
It dawned on us,
As he set our home in flames,
And walked away,
From his progeny’s ashes.

Wayward,
The convoy’s descent,
Through the breathless hills,
The frozen riverside,
Amongst the wicked witch woods.

Howls of frost approaches,
Impetuous, callous tempest,
Beacon of catastrophe,
Sparks a menacing flare,
The ferocious force of humanity.

Beseech me if you must!
Though as harrowingly as it seems,
No abysmal depth in snow,
May conceal the end in mind,
Of these grimy hands of mine.

Lighthearted souls gathered about,
Their strength incomparable,
With their good willed hearts,
And eyes that beamed with exuberance.

As the day grew long and weary,
They danced in tune,
Smiled widely,
And fought bravely by my side.

It's a downpour,
The infinite jar,
It's that time of the hour!

Grab a mask,
Join the dance,
Paint the scene forever last,

Exhale, unwind,
Relieve the mind,
Of all the fantasies past,

Faith be told,
The pathway's divine,
For the death of mine.

The silence is deafening,
Beheld upon the creaking drawers of an escritoire,
The sonorousness of all and none,
Still, oh so still,
May the hands of which lay immobilized by this muddled mind of mine.

Hand in hand,
They were formed,
By passion,
By souls entwined.

In profound love they must be!
To set these delicate creations free,
Such divine sculptures,
Sentient in clay,
Each full in emotion and in minds that sway,
But none the same.

She drowns in honey,
Smothering waves,
What sweet extravagance!
Wickedly viscous,
As she slowly decays.

Your scent lingers the air,
A distant fragrance,
Subtle taste akin,
An acacia honey toast,
On a midsummer’s fête champêtre.

Cascades of light may reach one's toe,
When fate condones it so.
The warmth, the gleam,
Of skin therein,
With the sun,
Will betimes fade.

Thus be wise,
To relish it so,
For the ray might not recur.

Patches of green are all I see,
But green are all that plants should be,
Where oh where, did you go?
The butterflies, bees, beetles,
Fireflies, flies, and friends?

Falling stars like speckled gold,
Juniper fields, memories of old,
The bees have gone, or so I've been told
Would you have known?
Where you were, the path grows cold
Not one you've wrote, those empty notes,
Hardly a modern myth,
To me, this dream you sold

However notoriously must one picture my being,
None may surpass,
This horrid creature of me.

His glare has pierced my skin!
From a million distant years,
Perhaps from another continent,
Another planet,
Another dimension galaxies away,
That felt all too close,
With those red eyes ablaze.

They fumed and howled!
Brimming with anger, guilt, and pain.
With tears overflown and nerves strained,
Of all the marionettes in his dying quartet.

He tugged their strings,
That made them dance,
Until they no longer could.
He pulled them together,
And made them quarrel,
Until one breaks the other.

He has laughed, rejoiced.
Then cries and repents.
He does as he pleases to watch them crumble,
For those are the amplified emotions array,
Of this monster in the making,