Ocean whispers, sandy gleam,  
Waves that dance in sunlight's beam.  
Seashells scatter, tides that play,  
Whimsy carried in the spray.
  
Gentle breezes, soft and light,  
Kissing shores with pure delight.  
Children’s laughter, joyously found,  
Echoes where the sea meets ground.  

Crimson sun begins to wane,  
Golden hues on rippling gain.  
Footprints traced in the warm, fine sand,  
Memories etched by nature's hand.  

Curly waves in frothy white,  
Embrace the dusk, surrendering night.  
Stars awaken, shimmering bright,  
Mirrored in the ocean’s sight.  

Moonlit paths on water's face,  
A secret dance, a timeless grace.  
Whales call softly from afar,  
Carrying tales of where they are.  

Seabirds wheel in evening's hush,  
Wings outstretched in silent rush.  
The ocean’s heart, a lullaby,  
Sings of dreams beneath the sky.  

So here, beside this endless blue,  
We find our peace, our spirits renew.  
For in the tide’s eternal sway,  
Life’s simple wonders find their way.

In daily rush, we pass the fleeting joys,  
The sunrise painted gold upon the stream,  
A child’s soft laughter, nature's sweet employs,  
Yet we, absorbed, may lose the gentle dream.  
The beauty dwells in moments small and bright,  
In whispered winds, where blossoms sway and dance,  
But oft we miss these gifts of pure delight,  
Entranced by shadows, caught in life’s expanse.  
Take heed, dear heart, in stillness value worth,  
For every breath encased in fleeting time,  
In gratitude, find beauty’s truest birth,  
And seize each moment as a cherished rhyme.  
Let not this life, though bright, be brushed aside;  
Embrace its grace, let love within us bide.

In twilight’s sweet embrace, where shadows play,
Dreams unfurl like petals at the close of day.
A whispered wish upon the breeze,
We find ourselves where time does freeze.

Eyes like galaxies, vast and deep,
In those fleeting moments, our secrets keep.
Fate weaves a tapestry, thread by thread,
Two hearts in the cosmos, tenderly led.

With every brush of skin, the universe ignites,
Igniting stardust trails on tranquil nights.
No spoken vow, yet the heavens conspire,
To bind our souls with an unquenchable fire.

Though the world may sway, like leaves in the storm,
Our connection remains, steadfast and warm.
Across rivers of time, through whispering trees,
Our essence entwined in the rustle of leaves.

In the silence, your laughter dances on air,
Echoing softly, a promise laid bare.
In dreams, in shadows, in glimmers of grace,
I’ll trace the patterns of your embrace.

As the sun sets low and the moon takes flight,
I’ll seek you in echoes of soft, silver light.
For love like ours is a serendipitous art,
A timeless collision, a celestial heart.

So let the world turn, let fate take the lead,
For in the garden of  moments, love plants its seed.
Through cosmic alignments, we’ll ever roam,
Finding each other, always… our soul’s home.

The sun spills gold in fragile streams,
a fleeting touch, a sigh between;
where time unravels, slow and thin,
like an ancient spell whispered on the wind.

The dawn awakes with silver hands,
to trace lost love upon the land.
A mist, a ghost, a breath, a plea;
a world once whole, now memory.

The rivers hum in voices old,
secrets spun in liquid gold.
Their song still lingers, soft and low,
a tale of things we’ll never know.

The trees, they reach, they ache, they yearn,
for fires gone cold, for stars that burn.
Their roots entwine the bones of time,
each ring a loss, each leaf a rhyme.

The flowers bloom, then fade, then fall,
as if they never lived at all.
Yet in their scent, a love remains;
a whispered name, a fleeting flame.

The mountains stand, but in their stone,
are echoes carved of those long gone.
Their peaks still call to those below,
a song of longing, laced with woe.

The ocean sings in sorrowed waves,
it cradles what it could not save.
Each crest, a prayer; each fall, a cry;
a heart too vast to say goodbye.

And when the dusk drapes earth in blue,
the stars blink out, as lost things do.
For magic lingers, wild and thin,
like an ancient spell whispered on the wind.

And Let It Be Joy That Remembers Me

Let not the weight of my days be the tale,
nor the echoes of sorrow that time lets grow pale.
Not the moments I stumbled, nor those I stood tall,
but the laughter that lingers, the light through it all.

Let it be joy that remembers me,
like dawn spilling gold on an old, weary tree.
Like wind through the grass where the wild rivers run,
or the hush of the earth when it greets the sun.

Not carved into stone, nor whispered in woe,
but caught in the way that the fireflies glow.
A kindness retold in a story once shared,
a spark in the dark to remind you I cared.

So when all else fades as the years pass you through,
let it be joy that still sings in the blue.

A sunrise melts over the horizon like warm apricot jam...
golden, rich, and glistening with the first breath of light.
It spills over the land in slow, honeyed ribbons,
seeping into the earth, into the marrow of the morning.
The sky unfurls, blushing with sugared tangerine and rose,
soft as a held breath, deep as longing.

The air is thick with the scent of wild honey and ripe fruit,
heavy with something unnamed, something ancient.
A breeze, warm and feather-light, brushes against your skin,
carrying whispers of things lost and found,
of summers long buried beneath the turning of years.

Mist clings to the earth like a lover reluctant to let go,
curling in the hollows, swirling in the golden hush.
The tender spill of dawn drapes itself over the fields,
weaving light into the trembling hands of wildflowers,
each petal cupped around a glistening prayer of dew.

The river sighs, its voice low and endless,
a slow hymn to time itself.
Birdsong quivers in the air,
sharp and bright as the memory of laughter once held close.
Everything shivers on the edge of becoming...
the earth, the sky, even you, standing there,
barefoot in the quiet ache of morning.

For a moment, you are nothing but breath and bone,
woven into the hush of something vast and infinite.
The day stirs, stretching toward the waiting world,
but you remain...caught in the fragile eternity
of the first light, of the golden hush,
of a morning too beautiful to name.

Can you perceive the beauty all around,  
Where hope resides in whispers of the breeze?  
Each leaf that trembles, every vibrant sound,  
Awakens life with gentle, tender ease.  
In every stone lies wisdom, calm and deep,  
A soul encased in time’s relentless flow,  
While trees, like sentinels, stand tall and steep,  
Their branches cradle dreams, both high and low.  
The Earth, she breathes; her heartbeat thrums the ground,  
In symphonies of rustling grass and sighs,  
Her essence dances where our hearts are found,  
A tapestry of life beneath vast skies.  
So let us pause and hear the world's embrace,  
In nature's arms, we find our rightful place.

Does trust return on gentle wing,
like birds that find their way to spring?
Or once it’s lost, does it remain,
a shadow cast, a lingering stain?

Is trust a thread that, once undone,
can never weave back into one?
Or does it mend, though frayed and worn,
a fabric stronger where it’s torn?

Is trust a whisper on the breeze,
a fleeting touch, a phantom tease?
Or does it root in ground anew,
where time and care may let it bloom?

What say you...can trust revive,
or is it only once alive?

Can you see what I see?
A world brimming with hope and beauty,
Where every leaf, every branch, every tree,
Whispers the life it holds so deeply.

Can you hear the quiet breath of the Earth,
A rhythm pulsing from the soil’s heart,
The soul of every stone and pebble,
Woven together in a tapestry of art.

Can you feel the heartbeat of the land,
A sacred pulse beneath your feet,
A song of life so vast, so grand,
Echoing softly, ever sweet.

Alive in every moment, every breeze,
A symphony of life that weaves,
A boundless wonder, a timeless dream.
I can.
And it’s beautiful...

The forest hums with secrets

Maidenhair ferns, wood sorrel, and creeping thyme weave through the undergrowth,
while ghost pipe blooms pale beneath the watchful old fir.
Tiny mushrooms...chanterelles, inkcaps, and fly agaric...rise from the moss,
their caps jeweled with dew that shimmers in the hush of moonlight.

A ring of toadstools, aglow with otherworldly luster,
beckons the Faerie Queen to her midnight waltz.
Silver wings flicker like whispers in the dark,
and the song of the forest...a siren’s melody...
calls the lost to dance.

In the whirl of my mind, where echoes roar,
A storm of thoughts that I can’t ignore.
Untamed, unchained, they twist and fly,
Like winds that howling refuse to die.

I try to control them, bring them to heel,
But they laugh and dance, too wild to feel.
I give them words, and still they break,
Chasing answers, but none they’ll make.

I wear a look, absurd and wide,
A glance that says, “Where’s the guide?”
Injustice, chaos, the way they lay,
I shake my head and walk away.

But here, within, there’s something more,
A lesson buried deep, a silent roar.
Patience, grace, the secrets found,
When I finally stop and hear the sound.

My thoughts, like rivers, twist and wind,
Rushing forward, but hard to bind.
In their flow, I glimpse the key...
Letting go is what sets me free.

In the quiet of my space, I pause,
To face the chaos, to bear the cost.
For once, the storm within me calms,
A whispered peace, a subtle balm.

And though the world may spin askew,
I stand, unshaken, firm and true.
With my echoes loud, my mind untamed,
I am whole, in my own name.

In the echo of your voice, there's a song,
A rhythm that tells you you've been strong.
Though it may seem the world is vast and wide,
Your words still ripple with the tide.

Even in silence, there's a space to grow,
A place where your light begins to glow.
The emptiness that seems to stretch and roam,
Is simply the echo calling you home.

For in the vastness, there's room to find,
The beauty in the quiet, the peace of the mind.
The world may feel distant, but know this true;
The echo is a message, a whisper to you.

Every sound you make, a spark in the night,
Filling the void with your inner light.
The echo returns, but this time you see;
The emptiness was never empty; it was waiting for you to be free.

I saw the look when you walked in the room,
A glance that whispered judgment, sealed in gloom.
You didn’t know the struggles I face each day,
The battles unseen that shape me this way.

I pretended not to hear the words that stung,
The whispers that echoed, too harshly unsung.
But inside, the silence screamed, raw and deep,
A wound too tender for anyone to keep.

You don’t know the reasons that lie beneath,
The parts of me hidden, beyond your belief.
But still, you speak as though you can see,
The things I carry, so deep within me.

I hear your whispers, your blame, your doubt,
You think I don’t understand, but I’m here, no doubt.
I’m not stupid, not broken, not less.
I’m just a soul trying to find my own peace.

And still, you should love me, you should see,
That who I am is a part of me.
I long for your kindness, your heart to be kind,
But it feels like love’s something you’ve left behind.

I carry this hurt, but I wear it in grace,
Hoping one day, you’ll see my true face.
Until then, I’ll hold on, I’ll try to be strong,
Even when I feel like I don’t belong.

But know this, deep down, beyond all the pain,
My love for you will always remain.
No matter the silence, the distance, the strife,
I’ll love you forever, all through my life.

In this deep, where silence speaks,
the waters pull, the darkness leaks.
A vast expanse, a quiet sweep,
where thoughts dissolve and secrets sleep.

Time stretches here, slow and untamed,
as the surface fades, and we're unclaimed.
There is no rush, no frantic call,
only the weight of everything, and nothing at all.

In this deep, the stars do gleam,
whispers carried on the stream.
The current moves, but we remain...
a part of it, yet untouched by pain.

The heart, heavy and light in turn,
beats softly in the distance, learning to burn
with quiet flames, a steady glow,
that flickers in the undertow.

In this deep, we learn to be...
not in the answers, but in the mystery.
A part of all that’s yet to see,
a thread in the fabric, wild and free.

In this deep, there is no end,
no shore to reach, no need to mend.
Everything, untouched, unseen,
remains, somehow, deeply known.

Life is a poem, a drifting stream,
Icicle dreams in a silver gleam.
Swirly clouds in the sky unfold,
Soft-spun whispers in colors bold.

Morning hums in golden tune,
Dewdrops vanish by the noon.
Breeze that lingers, scent so sweet,
Leaves that dance but never meet.

Footsteps fade upon the shore,
Yet waves return forevermore.
Mountains rise, then crumble low,
Still the rivers onward flow.

Sunlight paints the world in gold,
Night drapes secrets, dim yet bold.
Stars like verses, stitched in light,
Tell of longing, love, and flight.

Time’s a line both sharp and blurred,
Written, erased, then reoccurred.
Nothing stays, yet all remains,
A pulsing rhythm, joy and pain.

Life is fleeting, vast, unknown.
A poem written, yet never owned.

And all at once, at once it died, and all at once love died.
A whisper turned to silence, hearts fractured in the tide.
The spark we thought was endless, flickered out of sight,
Leaving only shadows where once there was light.

My lover has crossed the sea, the great blue sea,
where the waves rise high and the gulls fly free.
With salt on his skin and wind in his hair,
he left me standing, silent, and bare.

The tide it pulls, the tide it sways,
stealing the light from my weary days.
I trace his name in the shifting sand,
only to watch it slip from my hand.

The moon whispers secrets across the deep,
as I sit alone where the cold winds weep.
Does he think of me when the stars ignite?
Or am I a shadow lost to the night?

Oh, sea so wide, oh, sea so tall,
have you no mercy, none at all?
Carry him back, bring him to me,
my heart is adrift, lost at sea.