While dancing upon the leaves with serenity,
beneath the burgeoning trees of tranquility;
I watch the days settle in anodyne seclusion,
sweeping along the sands of seaside reunion.

Faltering slightly in pronounced expectations,
yet wrestling my inner soul's conflagrations;
At deep water's edge I nudge closer to sanity,
while reaping rewards of my own humanity.

My wounded heart cries despite the epiphany,
that rose amidst the dark world's cacophony;
In plangent roars it tore through reality,
as heavenly stars awakened in ecstasy.

Surrendering now as I touch sacred ground,
my bed of leaves emitting mellifluous sounds;
No words can defy what Nature has wrought,
surreptitiously leading to this holy spot.

As we bathe in the glow of an amber moon,
and ****** green grasses wet with dew;
We cuddle within love's sweet cocoon,
our eyes opened wide as emotions swoon.

The carved words and pictures in the cave,
left by honored ancients bold and brave;
Speak of gods with powers from the sky,
placing glints of admiration in faithful eyes.

Abandoned in cryptic missives on the wall,
these sketches demonstrate the rise and fall;
Of civilizations long past throughout the years,
while portraying their daily hopes and fears.

People weren't really much different then,
from today's authors using a pencil or pen;
With lives which depict work, stress, and play,
through what artists' souls seek to convey.

Finding lost messages that teach us to grow,
from helpless children to those who know;
That ancestral stories stand firm and tall,
from clever carvings left upon these walls.

The alley which runs behind Main St.,
is a hidden space of dark reality;
For those who have no other home,
it breeds life's dismal hospitality.

From the emptiness of aging buildings,
where falling bricks frame this gritty site;
At every corner stands a broken soul,
each staring blankly at the moonlight.

Young folks slinking along the corridor,
smoking cigarettes and drinking beer;
Their words are boisterous and crude,
taunting the homeless with their jeers.

The ladies pull down their faded dresses,
trying to hide their obvious shame;
As one glanced at the teens with anger,
who then called her a filthy name.

Suddenly sirens blared from the boulevard,
and all the youngsters scattered about;
Leaving behind the wretched squalor,
of the city's poor and rejected crowd.

This is a portrait of grief and sadness,
lying far beneath a starlit sky;
Where heartaches find their only home,
when a blinded world rolls quickly by.

While disallowed in baseless rhetoric,
refuting solemn words' defeat;
Another triumph lost to angry sobs,
will garner flowers at our feet.

One more day exposing shame and doubt,
shall host a measured retribution;
When night descends in darkest hour,
dramatic signs reach their conclusion.

As weeping willows cast their shadows,
in lingering sweeps of solace defined;
While their hymns of righteous reflections,
color rainbows cast within our minds.

Yet the dawn unfolds in all its glory,
descending from the highest hill;
As solemnity's words conquer evil,
and love rises through mankind's will.

Suddenly awakening before the dawn,
with emotions spinning like a wheel;
Gray skies misty with drizzled tears,
make suffocated voices strong and real.

The room still dreary from the night,
which is engulfed by the sullen sphere;
As hearts beat with strange imaginings,
through words one can barely hear.

Then sitting up promptly in my bed,
with lightning shattering in beams;
Shooting along the walls like comets,
which have appeared in cosmic dreams.

Wildly unsettled by a fevered pitch,
are the loosely painted faces;
Strung along the many mirrored walls,
forming shadows that time erases.

Behind the mask of violent rage,
there still resides a saintly cause;
As terror strikes within the soul,
God's angels seek a silent pause.

Bringing daylight with its welcome shine,
ridding the world of all its pain;
With their holy forces striking out,
delivering hope from Heaven's domain.

With a burst of Spring the mind shall wander,
to fields of dawn and skies of light;
Never a thought remains for sadness,
when sunshine reaches everyone in sight.

Perhaps it's time to set the story straight,
from emerald pastures of the soul;
And glossy winds of honeyed fragrance,
with feelings of love which make us whole.

Bleak days have quickly vanished overnight,
replaced with hopes and dreams fulfilled;
While each barren space within our hearts,
becomes a golden vessel of spiritual renewal.

So do not despair, my friends, for heaven's here,
in the awakening of bees, buds, and birds;
And nothing ever fails in glorious Spring,
as sounds linger softly without the words.