The evening sky is sea foam,
With the clouds a-flowing in.
The tide is turning nicely,
While the wind brings darkness in.

The earth keeps on a-spinning,
While the sky keeps it in shade.
How strange it is to see the sea,
From underneath the waves.

The bats are flying fishes,
The trees are coral reefs,
The fireflies are plankton,
All a-living down beneath.

But people have no purpose here,
Not in the ocean deep.
I know it’s time to travel back,
And wake up from my sleep.
Every night I’m lulled to sleep,
By the dripping of heavy dew,
By crickets as they play their song,
By the Owl asking, “Who?”

But just before I fall asleep,
I hear a Vixen’s Scream.
The foxes are mischievous,
As they prance beside the stream.

A moth is fluttering against the glass,
She’s enchanted by the light,
Of the little lamp beside the bed,
To keep away the Night.

And once the light is gone again,
And everything is still,
The cicadas sing a special song.
I’m delighted by their trill.

And when I can’t resist it,
When my time to sleep grows nigh,
I close my eyes and listen,
To a Southern Lullaby.
I look at you, but you aren't there,
And I breathe a sigh of sadness.
If I look away I'll face my fear,
And succumb to a world of madness.

I reach for you, but you don't reach back,
And water wets my face.
I think of everything I lack,
In the game of the Human Race.

You didn't know what would happen that day.
What you reaped you did not sew.
I look at you and all I say;
"Why did you have to go?"
How can you say that the world is plain,
When waterfalls fall with the fall of the rain,
And puddles are gleaming like brand-new veneer?
Don't you know there is magic here?

I look at the flowers and expect to see Fae,
Yawning and stretching at dawn of the day,
Or harvesting dewdrops which fall in the night,
Flitting and flying from left to the right.

Have you walked through the forest and breathed in the air?
Have you laughed as the chipmunks ran fast from the hare?
Have you noticed how leaves turn the golden light green?
Have you seen all there is in the woods to be seen?

Oh Friend, have you stretched out your hands to the sun?
Have you seen the sky change since the day has begun?
Will you lift up your eyes and be wrapped in the dark,
And watch as the moon and the stars make their mark?

Do you really not know there is magic here,
While the puddles are gleaming like brand-new veneer,
And the waterfalls fall with the fall of the rain?
How can you say that the world is plain?
I sometimes sit alone at night,
All huddled up and out of sight,
And listen to the whippoorwill;
She welcomes darkness with her trill.

Her feathers bear no colored spot,
A peacock’s beauty, she has not,
But still, she perches calm and proud,
As she sings her name aloud.

She doesn’t know that she is plain,
And continues singing her refrain,
I smile, knowing all along;
Her beauty rests within her song.
Orange Rose May 14
I stumble in the blinding dark.
I cannot see a single mark,
Of light, of rock, of man or beast.
It seems the night will have its feast.
When suddenly a glowing light,
Emits from somewhere out of sight.

I stagger toward it, unaware,
Of a sudden thinness in the air.

A cave now seems to beckon me,
And as I enter, all I see,
Are crystals shining like the sun.
Like broken mirrors, dull are none.
My fear now seems to melt away,
And false safety is here to stay.

For suddenly I feel safe and sound,
Though I'm miles and miles below the ground.
Orange Rose May 14
I wrote a poem when I died...
Another at my birth.
A brand-new sonnet when I cried.
And again when there was mirth.

A song for my confession...
A story for my pain...
A painting for depression...
And nursery rhymes for rain.

My creations live inside my heart.
I keep them there in shame.
Yet you looked around and saw my art,
And smiled all the same.
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