Beauty,
It can never be seen
But felt
It can never reside on a face
Beauty,
Its in a smile given
The stillness of the lake
After a storm
Leaves coloured, and falling
A summer rain
Beautiful,
Is words spoken in love
A feeling of kinship
Its the smile on a sleeping babies face
It can be found in laughter,
Sometimes tears
Beautiful,
So elusive, yet everywhere
Skin, will fade, wrinkle, and sag
It will age and turn to dust
But real
Beauty,
Never fades
As real Love,
Never dies

A gaggle scaling ice
With cautious grace
Cooling blood flow
Matching the temperament
Of hardened Adam's ale
Discomfort unseen
Unaware of the dangers they befriend
If only I could learn such skill
My fleshy body is fiery
As is my will
I tried to follow
Only to fall in
Conceited with human flaw
Swallowing crisp death
Holding hands with panic
Exchanging  youthful banter of woe
Birthday candles cannot out glow
Queen of the mountain
Eroded by natures charms
Tactful is she
Denials next move
To scam an eager mind
Dormant in life's winters thrill
Leaving my body stuck in time
Gray and blue and still

Standing outside the broken window of life
Breathing In the poison, feeding on the strife
Crooked perspectives, singular views
Pain or numbness, which ever we choose
Dance, or play the music, either way the same beat
Watching the world die, bitter tasting treat
We watch, like spiders, weaving our web
Spin it out with words, views of life's flow and ebb
Feeding like ticks, off the emotions of others
Be it their actions, or smiles of fake lovers
Empathic designs, binding together
All we, watchers, into forever
This broken window, through which we all stare
Gives prysmic views, though never a glare

What does happen in the night?,
where restless youths beg for a fight,
where women with all dignity lost, will sell you their services at a cost,

where men will pay for their hunger to sate and tell their wives they're coming home late, where knowing wives are sat at home, waiting by the telephone, hoping he has done what's right, but that's not what happens in the night.

The children cower in their beds, the fear of the night sat in their heads, imagining monsters, causing fright, but that's not what happens in the night.

The children do not know, why mothers eyes are red, why father is not home, tucking them into bed, but father is still searching for that which will excite, for this is what happens, in the absence of light.

A wood sprite cowled in rain drop diamonds
The lantern from above is shining ever brighter
Bluebirds and cardinals return to my vision ,
a golden religion with sacraments measured in legions ..
Sing O' thrasher , my lover , of gray blankets now parted ,
of streams fulfilled , longing for the ocean deep , of laughter
and harmony twixt earth and sea* ...