"where the night clouds ebb and flow like a tide"

the clouds roar their
thunder, balance
against the sky like a
set of scales
while the rain,
heavy and dreadful,
soaks the hot ground turning
the trickling stream back into
a buoyant wave chattering
to rock and silver leaf
of summer’s blossoming
dream.

"where love is a ghost and a star"

play with me,
loosen my hair,
let me sing to
you a sea song
where the waves
somersault and
crash to the shore,
where the wind, wild
as wild, faints to breathe
in the darkening sky.

the clouds shake out their
sheets, muse like a poem,

tremble in the hollows
of the dark. the rain

cries on the roof-tops,
cool as a moon beam,

beautiful in its heavy
dew, while the sky wears

its eyeliner like an egyptian
queen, its hieroglyphs a lost
world.

The storm has much to say,
Ranting through rain
Drops,
Morse code on window pane.
Triple dots dash to convey,
Stop.
Glass lashed words
Traced light upon the day.
The wind will have its way,
Whistling through canopies
Leading leaves astray.
Melodies of catastrophe
And cacophonics on display.

it was near the cricket field,
stitched into the ground -

amid clover and tufts of grass -
a little ring of white mushroom,

longing for the night sky,
for the journeying cloud,

sweetened by flower and dust,
where the little fairies danced,

balancing on the air -
weaving the moonlight like cloth -

with their drowsy feet
and wings of blue stalk.

you are star, you are moon,
a blur of white in the rounded night,

tranquil as the narrow streets at nocturne,
where the tall streetlight breathes

its half-moon yellows, love flowers
behind frosty windows; behind

avenues of dark stone and gothic
eaves the dust of the moon

starts to settle, weaves a golden web.