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Everytime you bring me back from
The shore of infinity
Dragging my soul through waves
Sprinkling foamy stardust on my eyelids.
I open them
And find your shadow more pale
Than yesterday's dream.
You carry my wings
Your shoulders under my feathers
Expand wider than western horizon.
I melt and spread
Like a field of sunny tangerine
On your patient chest.
An ocean that is sweeter than freedom
Deeper than the blues of Pacific.
there are places words cannot go
deep  ravines of bitterness
broken hearts
caverns buried beneath human souls
there are souls places words make amends
true feelings sweetnesses
cloved hooves
batteries of soul most worthy
of gallant meanings
the most over stated comparisons
soul lifting paradoxes
grand statements
it is between that is so barely
ever stated waking up
again . washing dishes
chore like memes
and daily activities,
the world spins round
either way
it just spins slower,
sometimes
i.

impressionist,
where the grey
clouds and the blue
ice of winter
gather their ghosts,

winter, too cold,
too white, the
woodland hollows
dent,
summer love

discarded in
the frost,

the sky oaken,
the moon’s forget-me-knots
silvery dream.

ii.

clouds like wintery steel,
sunken, in a night pool,
the golds of my heart,

the lodestar gathers
moss and rook,
glimmers in a sky
of woven cloth,
her leaves, the trees
of winter,
her leaves, the dark
breath of the storm.


iii.

winter and quiet stars
brooding emperor
sleeping in the twilight
hour,
winter dreams of
strange ice caverns
where ice ghosts
dance with twisting
hair.

iv.

pond of ice,
snow bear,
snow dream,

sleep unwraps

wide avenues of
trees,

sleep, the dark girl,
the falling tide.

v.

twig breaks under foot,
earth’s thrones
settle in the lizardy light

the moon rises in the sky,
soft centuries of sky.
i should add that this is waterlilies in winter the original poem was autumn inspired. i'd like to do spring and summer at some point as well!
sea, soft slumbering
its ghosts green nettles
once woven into shirts,
princess with fingers
badly stung
for love you sew
nettle to poison nettle
bearing the pain
for brotherly love
and as the nettle shirts
are thrown over their
backs, they become
human once more
and the bonfire to burn you
becomes soft flowers,
under a wintery sky that was once
a flock of wild swans.
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