spring sings her new song, and the hail and the frost and the pretty flowers open all their windows and doors. my poetry lay dormant as the winter wind. as the last storm and gust carries the poetry to a new morning, love finds me, love finds me.

The rain-modulated trees and the hoarse leaf
That in themselves tell a love so complete,
Were once the playthings of lovers’ sights
Who passed here once and once and never.
Love the destitution of love.

the star of the star of the morning
is restful and tranquil and free

the star of the star of the evening
blossoms dark as a shadowy tree,


the waves drive out far in their rivers
as blue as a star in the sky,

and the darkness relents for her shivers
must finally die.


waves turning and burning and dancing
clouds wandering e'er ever on

and the darkness that finds the new morning,
as cold as stark night's bitter song,


oh, brother who wept for my sisters
no tears as alive as their breath

swept out where the wild sea blisters
and pain knows of death.


wild whispers, wild birds and the fury
of waves that sing out to the clouds

the death then of life that we bury
laid out in the whitest of shrouds


the sea, oh, the sea, how she sings me
a song of a dance never sung

and her rhythms soon calm and placate me
her bell solemn rung.


and sweet love is the journey i strive for
as blue as a mysterious sea

and the love is a fruit full of succour,
and the moment will live e'er free,


you stand tragic as a painting so mournful
alone as a poet who rests,

and the lull of the storms here at night fall
the sea's treasure chests.


the day wraps the night in her roses
and night wraps the day in her sight

and midnight's soft moonlight supposes
that day is a journey e'er bright,


and love was a love still forever
and love had no rose in her bower

for the floor of the sea like a feather
the most delicate flower.

the sea like some colossal round barrel,
rolling swiftly along with the tide,

as the bright summer waves lost their quarrel
with a wind that had blossomed and sighed,


strange night full of clouds, full of ocean
full of gulls hanging wings on the sky,

while the waves with their depth  and emotion,
must finally die.


waves enchanting and rolling and curling
a sky deep in love with the wave

where the ghost of the moon-tide is haunting,
that n’er found release from the  grave,


the sea with her linens and moonshine
as white as a sheet on a line,

where the wind catches a note of the sea brine,
and your love is mine.


dear lover, our love was a sea tune
that sang out of a love ever free,

as our kisses that delighted the night moon,
brought contentment to you and to me,


our love an incredible fire,
that haunts us from dawn until dusk,

with an ******-like song  of desire
filled with fragrance and musk.


love deeper and softer and sweeter,
love more of freedom than strife,

dark glance full of fire and fever,
fire and fever and elixir of life,


love never cold quenched or forgotten
bold as bold and incredible of flame,

love fabulous, searing  and wanton
love impossible to tame.


there are magics that sweet lovers treasure
there are kisses of love and of light,

and love that is impossible to measure,
carried along by the song of the night,


and jealous our song to each other,
the jealousy  e’er  bittersweet,

the ghost and the sky and the lover,
the rose at our feet.

and i was the enchantment waiting to find you...

when i was a daughter of siam i cried so beautifully at night for my husband's love when i was asleep that i became his favourite wife and he promised to love me forever.

the moon treads a path gently woven,
clouds gather their rain and their sighs,

the sea with her flowers  and  sirens
below the grey swag of the skies,


the sea drifts out far like a sail boat,
in love with the sky and the wind,

the wild surging breeze hits its high note,
with all the lights dimmed.


the love that we had lies half buried,
blows as soft as the wind through the grass,

the bird that the sky always carried
a ghost of the air that does  pass  


love squandered, love hungered, devoted,
as jealous as jealous can be,

love frozen forever  emotive,
once prisoned now free.


a love soon believed for its sweetness,
romantic, delicious and wild,

a sacrifice e’er  e’er  grievous,
hearts lonely that once were  beguiled,


muse singing of love now departed,
washed out like a rose in the frost,

waste lovers left soon broken-hearted,
love won and then lost.


love more of dark midnight’s soft flowers
more of twilight and shadowy bones,

death’s minstrel  that sings in the bowers,
kings seated on dragons and thrones,


love open and timeworn , delightful
as seas breathing of cloud bursts and mist,

uncanny, blood-berried,  insightful
and drowned with one kiss.


brought back from where the wild sea wandered
stood out like a bird on the sands,

love guilty, then freed though still squandered,
like courantes followed by sarabands,  


love full of the delights of the morning,
or evening where dark blossoms grow,

where the thunderous waves are still storming
and poetry flows.


wild whispers of love and strong passion,
on the wind that once gathered the storm,

loves whispers once alive and now ashen,
refusing to comply or conform,


the dark of the night finds its firefly,
a star that now falls from the sky,

strange dusk, stranger song than the sea’s sigh,
where the lonely ghosts die.


and love always finds the new morrow,
like a waif of the sky and the sea,

finds sometimes delight or great sorrow,
lives and breathes in the dark memory,


remembers those days once  so gifted,
believed in and lived in and free,

where the swallows broad wings were once lifted,
flying desolately.


love lost and yet sadly remembered
in the last golden pools of the sun,

as the sunset is no longer tethered
by the clouds that still run and then run,


love always of nightfall soft  breathing,
magnolia moons set alight,

love never all lost, now just sleeping,
enchanting  and bright.