Encrusted in jewels of wonder
Shards of light entomb its slumber
A gilded box fortified
Horrors whisper from inside

Hoisted up, smugly regarded
Coveted instead of guarded
Contained furies writhe and rage
Never unlock this subtle cage

Aren’t you curious just to see?
These rules don’t apply to me
Foolish men with hearts of stone
Hell unleashed is what you own

Drowned
in seas
of possibilities past
Washed up
like ragged flotsam

Blinking awake
on the shores of the Now
beads of water
on my spectacles
shine like jewels
in the golden dawn light
The beach is haunted
with a lonely beauty

The ship was unsinkable
as the Titanic
Torn to pieces
in the early hours

The jungle line looms
ahead, coiling green
Unknowable, filled
with dangers unseen

Icarus soars sunwards
Fly youthful hubris
A fool’s lament for
spent sands so ruthless

A shade past apogee
Still burning bright -
not yet succumbed
to gravity’s fight

Time’s shrewd eye
twinkles with glee
Streak o’er the horizon
still unable to see

Perilous predicament
for the prodigal son
Dawning too late
Impact in three two one

Spearing morning gloom
over mist clung forest slopes
Rose light kisses your skin

Sparrows flit chittering
among arches of umber and gold
Heavens powdered sapphire

Break your cage
with a warm wildflower breeze
Begin your day anew

The texture in the grain of a polished wooden table
The iridescent vision-defying blue of a flower petal
The pungent base and delicate zing of freshly ground cardamom
The sonorous melancholic resonance of a cello
The golden warmth of a late September sun in a crisp cloudless sky
The silken reflections of wet cobblestones in dancing blue light
The earthiness of dust in a timeworn attic
The rough warmth of a leather photo album cover
Your lop-sided half smile

Rivers of gold and red
collide o’er carpets of must
Flow to frozen fronds
caught in shimmering
shrouded white mists

Melting in longer days
to heavy dewy scents
of saps and green alchemy
twisting, sensing, exploring
transcending nights

Starlit glass sparkles
reflecting the roar
of maelstrom mirages
the could-be but-isn’t
trapped and impatient
like a pacing lioness

I hear their voices calling
from arboreal gloom
The things in the forest
luring children to their doom

The pumpkin faces grimace
glistening in the dusk
Mist rising in the darkness
A cloying hanging must

A cursed hollow in the depths
Gnarled faces in the bark
Gentle songs waft on the wind -
then screaming in the dark

Villagers search frantically
kin missing from their bed
a hopelessness and sorrow
and endless, gnawing dread