The naked world defines my sorrow,
and leaves me hungry for more;
Of cherished moments under the sun,
with salt-sea kisses from a distant shore.

While lapis light shoots from the sky,
my heartbreak trends toward stars;
Which hold my thoughts in shining array,
creating images that carry my scars.

Still wounded and faint I walk alone,
seeking solace from the nightly echoes;
Which color my sadness and regret,
leaving me cold as the winter's snow.

If this is the time when I fade away,
then perhaps it's only a dream;
A phantom notion which plagues my soul,
reaches its heights--finally peaceful and serene.

The naked world defines my sorrow,
and leaves me hungry for more;
Of cherished moments under the sun,
with salt-sea kisses from a distant shore.

While lapis light shoots from the sky,
my heartbreak trends toward the stars;
Which hold my thoughts in shining array,
creating images that carry my scars.

Still wounded and faint I walk alone,
seeking solace from the nightly echoes;
Which color my sadness and regret,
leaving me cold as the winter's snow.

If this is the time I fade away,
then perhaps it's only a dream;
A phantom notion that plagues my soul,
reaches its heights--finally peaceful and serene.

The world spins and twirls with incessant churning,
never falling--merely floating--across the horizon;
The magic cornerstone of our daily existence,
despite the pull from many parts unknown.

Once a small child flew up into the galaxy,
wandering with curiosity and inner trembling;
Stars ignited their own fire to warm her heart,
and comets scoured the sky while reassembling.

But then her cries were heard by heavenly angels,
to soothe the fears within the child's soul;
Scrambling onward to create the healing powers,
which sent words of light and love which was their goal.

Yet when the lonely child was hence recovered,
from the blackened night by the awesome Grace of God;
A sparkling zephyr propelled her through the whirlwind,
where she landed blessed and safe upon the ground.

A quagmire--inside a burst of ideas,
she wrestles with the theme ;
Not to worry---the words will come,
as if floating through her head---in a dream.

Wondering--and seeking at the same time,
colors mixed in awesome glow;
Igniting passion within her world,
but still, the words have nowhere to go.

Cozy lamplight shines beside,
an antique desk from mother;
Oh, how to make her proud,
in sprawling portraits of each other.

Never resting--a futile attempt to grow,
while mindful moments within her soul,
Wear out--looking for a space to hide,
losing all her pride--but wait, her goal,
attained by happenstance, a mere gliding
of the pen across the page--a restless tale decides
to form--no more hiding...
  
as she writes these inspiring words:
"family is everything."
The ghosts of the past now rest,
for she's opened her heart at last.

How the laughter rang out through the streets,
singing our praises in hopeful song;
We gathered together to raise the flag,
and praise the country where we belong.

Grasping one another's hands,
hugging each other tightly;
As if a dream awakened us to reality,
both daily and nightly.

We were just children but we always knew,
the future would shine for us
Red, white and blue...
Yet now...can we see the light ?
Democracy seems an endless fight.

The need for a promise to be fulfilled,
the need for a love that's cherished;
We will continue to demonstrate,
that there's no room for bigotry and hate.

Our finest hours may have dimmed,
we're paying for all that we've sinned;
But look up to the sky...stop wondering why,
Simply open your heart to a world torn apart.
Perhaps...we'll sing a song of freedom,
amidst the clamor and sorrow,
There will be a tomorrow...for everyone to share !

The sky is covered with woolly clouds,
for days they hovered above;
So impatient for the sun to shine,
with its gleaming light of love.

Walking toward the river bank,
I pause to toss a stone;
Onto the rippling water's edge,
where gulls fly about and roam.

Cold and chilled I hang my head,
with sadness as company;
I want to run from all my fears,
and blossom whole and free.

But overcast the world remains,
despite my heartfelt prayers;
Now crying till the angels hear,
my wistful words of despair.

Yet when the new day breaks upon,
all the faithful waiting long;
Will bask in heaven's radiant glow,
and sing their own sweet song.

Mounted high upon his mahogany desk,
those papers lined with embellished words;
Disguised with false echoes of majesty,
which tell the tales of fire and swords.

Forgetting all but one parable designed,
to open up a bleeding heart's wounds;
His inspired thoughts would float away,
in dubious flights of sights and sounds.

While caressing the pages so boldly grasped,
reminding him that words could hold the key;
To rescue the world and solve its weariness,
if only his heart would embrace validity.

Now struggling through these manuscripts,
with haunting visions of malice and grief;
His life torn apart from the wanton spirits,
while flowing cautiously toward a sense of relief.

Since living is heaven's gift to us all,
not just a plaything to scorn and toss;
We must carry the torch to higher ground,
despite our sacrifice and inevitable loss.

An arduous journey came to rest,
at the start of eternal wisdom's quest;
Halting and slow it dissolved away,
before my soul could stop and pray.

Then darkness sang its absurd tune,
while traveling far into the gloom;
Before the changing of the guard,
and lightning crashed in broken shards.

Yet mindful of the cautious stance,
a wisp of memory began to dance;
And all the words cascading down,
erased the visions from the ground.

Past remembering I once knew this place,
of shattered hearts from honor debased;
And while the tears fell from my eyes,
the storms of change came racing by.

When visions play upon our lives,
in varied images that survive;
Perceptive signals from a space,
will crowd emotions into place.

The stalwart stance of mindful thought,
seems stuck in future's promised vault;
But viewing every present notion,
it follows trails without commotion.

Reflections from the past apply,
appearing lost in timeless cry;
As treachery ends its battered ways,
revelations cure the wanton craze.

When integrity captivates with style,
inspiring reality along the miles;
Each mortal being plays a role,
in merging halves becoming whole.

Perhaps the moon is a prophet,
and the sun its sister;
Perhaps the grass could be greener,
and the clouds are just blisters.
And the rain is devilish in its daring,
and birds don't sing at all;
Perhaps Summer is really winter,
and Spring is really Fall.

'Round goes the carousel of life,
a kaleidoscopic backwards view;
That captures the imagination,
in seeing days and nights askew.

Perhaps we're all invisible,
just wraiths who've lost our way;
Perhaps blue is red and red is blue,
how can we know this isn't a game ?

Yet heaven dwells within us all,
God promised He would deliver;
a sunny day and rainy skies,
and cold that makes us shiver.

The world is ours, the world is His,
that's all we need to know;
Trust in faith for all humankind,
and the smallest hearts will glow...

Perhaps...

A soul rejects the hateful thoughts,
from folks who play the game;
Of pretense that provides a cover,
for some who seek to inflame.

In our hearts we know it's true,
that bias curbs our growth;
Diversity shines in cultures where,
one takes the pledge of truth.

If we want a land that's free and fair,
we must gather up our courage;
Instead of mocking fellow citizens,
and relying on useless rage.

The water is wide and we must cross,
to seek our own salvation;
With ways to float above the curse,
of Satan's plan to ruin our Nation.

With solemn eyes she took his hand,
and walked the length of the street;
Her pain suffused with inner conflict,
while her gentle heart continued to beat.

Awakened now to a frightening existence,
her palm sweaty in the stranger's hands;
A single tear fell down onto her cheek,
the moment he opened the black van.

This man held a badge to her youthful face,
then made her sign some confusing papers;
While carried away from her own community,
leaving behind children who will live in fear.

From her small window she saw her 'abuela',
whose careworn hands waved a frantic goodbye;
The life she'd known ruined and torn away,
and off to a place where her words won't apply.  

The suffering we've witnessed can only foretell,
a stark future that leads to a living hell !

Nightly when you lie upon your pillow,
remember there's a different world ahead;
In mystical motions of your weary mind,
and fields of wonder surrounding your bed.

In fantasy you'll find inspired release,
from daily qualms and troubles of the heart;
While sensing vibrant whirls of saintly images,
embrace you while they play their golden harps.

Dizzying sounds provoke and mesmerize,
when easing deepened thoughts of disarray;
The angelic chorus sings its sweet refrain,
and gently soothes all tendencies toward pain.

These visions of a peaceful life will show,
that through the night the shadows disappear;
As the Lord prepares a miracle for us all,
with dreams of hope which vanquish every fear.

The days of thunderous applause denied me,
without 'honorable mentions' placed beside me;
Rampant chaos reaped within my hungry soul,
urgently follows a route from sensibility's role.

In loathsome words defining what's ahead,
my beating heart revives its chance to shed;
The multitude of tears which cast a shadow,
which falls across my face in muted sorrow.

For when dawn arrives beyond the grassy hills,
awakening the callous world from winter's chills;
I crawl from my bed and watch in fascination,
beseeching heavenly claims for my rejuvenation.

The fame and fortune sought from worthless gestures,
can stumble through with weak and thoughtless answers;
And doubtful questions posed from privilege and pride,
will forego the righteous path to humility's side.

Despite the lingering days of Spring,
perceptions are fleeting and rise within;
And with those regrets we take to heart,
the ancient rules of living soon depart.

Caught between past and present times,
our future visions form and fall in line;
Before moving ahead a backward drift,
conspires to halt our souls' heavy lift.

A blueprint of moments lay at our feet,
but the clock keeps ticking toward defeat;
Yet hopeful signs for conquering ills,
assuage our guilt with their careful skills.

If death then befalls us from wasted years,
and sins cascade down into bitter tears;
Our souls awaken through anguished hours,
and bring purpose like rain refreshing flowers.

So break down the walls of mistrust and dismay,
seeking love while sharing this glorious day;
And though we'll remain prisoners of time,
fears fade in the repentance of our crimes.

The mind is like a private world,
that spins within a sphere;
Of engaging thoughts and mystery,
with ideas not always clear.

It's a place we can always call our own,
unique in its expressive ways;
Sensitive and sweet yet often cold,
like a record that continues to play.

Frequently it lets someone in,
to share an opinion or two;
But sometimes it just closes up,
when it doesn't like the view.

Creative forces always at work,
to free it from despair;
Disruptive as they may often be,
are imbued with fresh, clean air.

We'll never know the strength within,
this quizzical part of man;
It's a game of chance to let it go,
to follow a life-long plan.

But wherever we go our minds evolve,
reaching out towards a treasured world;
With the privacy of self-indulgence past,
emitting echoes that shape and swirl.

We all believed in miracles,
a candle in the dark;
To light the fire of endless hope,
with its glowing golden spark.

The air was filled with angels,
and reflective wraiths around;
With magic visions everywhere,
which never made a sound.

Quietly the moon dissolved,
within a starry sky;
And silver streams flowed mystically,
along the mountainside.

While all the margins of the earth,
are fading into space;
The Good Lord reaches out to us,
with sweet compassion on His face.

As I stroll along the wayward path,
soured with wicked energy;
Which pours its fateful music,
allowing no road to symmetry.

The scene so dreadfully pale and white,
now wet with the drooping elm leaves;
My kerchief tied around my neck,
in the umbrella of quiet reprieve.

The planet grew surviving blasts,
its voices calling out to me;
I never knew the honor bound,
remained alone yet breathing free.

Looking back to pain and hurt,
feeling cleansed among the shadows;
In tumultuous gusts of eerie winds,
the precursors which deny tomorrows.

It only happens in such dreams,
the fiery depths of many hearths;
Complete the cataclysmic drought,
in ruination of senseless farce.

I only have myself to blame,
for a past that's ravaged and torn;
And here I sit and feel the rain,
in drops of silk from unicorns.

The sun-splashed images dance freely,
revealing a welcome sight of early June;
Outside goldfinches gather at the feeders,
and fight for every morsel until noon.

A *** of lemon tea sits on my table,
a morning invitation for my senses;
I fill a porcelain cup and sip the brew,
its tartness lively as the tongue caresses.

I stroll happily among the billowing lilacs,
embellishing the garden with their hue;
Then sit upon the wicker bench beside them,
and inhale the scented air so fresh and new.

As nature paints its radiance before me,
in a glowing scene of solace and delight;
Awakening my spirit toward the heavens,
with gratitude for such loveliness and light.

It was impossible, it seemed to me,
that twilight came so swiftly;
And with it coolness of the night,
and relief from restless drifting.

Wrapped in a towel of perspiration,
I lay on the desert's mounds of sand;
The crescent moon became my friend,
while watching it curve just like my hand.

But whispering wraiths arrived to haunt,
my vivid dreams of black and white;
Exposed to the darkness up above,
where nothing appeared quite right.

The moon dissolved in silent tears,
while shedding its silver sheen;
And with a touch of Merlin's wand,
gathered waters so clear and clean.

The desert rain fell with intent,
to wash away my mortal dread;
Dripping down from the crescent's mirror,
to reflect upon my earthly bed.

When I awoke it was eerily quiet,
the towel around me had dried;
No longer alone in a desert world,
I reached up and touched the sky.

All across the yard leaves fly,
golden yet limp with rain;
A show of late-autumn's power,
as December stakes its claim.

Onyx clouds bundle together,
filled with frost and snow;
About to pass throughout the sky,
in painted streaks of indigo.

Grasses lay, no longer green,
yellowed and brown with time;
This season has its mellow moods,
as cardinals' songs wistfully rhyme.

Yet early December, I'll always remember,
the blossoming of a childlike prayer;
To cherish the joys of the holidays,
with blessings for peace everywhere.

Rejecting thoughts he'd disappear forever,
a phantom glides around the mortal scene;
His earthly voyage takes him many places,
through every nook and corner's vast terrain.

Bewitched by all the different worldly wonders,
he's captivated by sheer delicacy in flight;
And subtle hints from lavender filled pastures,
are scents he's never known before tonight.

Randomly he follows all the children,
while admiring their playfulness and joy;
Soon establishing a feeling of connection,
with every little girl and little boy.

They smelled as honeysuckle would (had he ever known it),
with cheery smiles scampering off to their own homes;
So elated to find the gift of immortality,
through voices of the cherubs' mortal tone.

And soon the time did come for his surrender,
to greater forces from the sky above;
But in his viscous soul he'll still remember,
a world of beauty singing graceful songs.

Seeking a space where I can breathe,
I wander through my bedroom;
it seems so dreary and dark within,
With a sense of impending doom.

Why did I stay within these walls,
when there's a lovely world outside ?
I have always been a reclusive girl,
but now I don't want to hide !

I've wept in solitude for weeks,
while my writing has turned sour;
I can't believe how I denied myself,
causing heartbreak from hour to hour.

Fresh air is what I need today,
not just sitting by the window;
No longer does my pen explore,
or create with a magical glow.

I wrapped myself inside my shawl,
and donned a feathered hat;
Opening the door to the autumn air,
I exclaimed, "Well, that was that" !

I'll learn to discover and make a change,
to how I perceive life before me;
Imagination is fine when you're alone,
but now I'll savor my new reality !

When lives converge in common ground,
the spoken words barely make a sound;
While calling souls away from pain,
with soothing musical refrains.

The friendships borne of ravaged days,
succeed to find another way;
To heal the scars from fiery blasts,
while pulses beat toward heaven's path.

No longer wretched and torn apart,
hands reaching out and touching hearts;
Will rise above the raging horror,
touching one another with truth and honor.

These signs of love will soon reveal,
what casts upon the spinning wheel;
Around and around each life proceeds,
to mend in friendship's honored creed.

When the images of the world seem false,
we wonder if there'll ever be a cost;
For dismissing all the craven features,
as if they're disturbingly wayward creatures.

For once I transported a ragged stone,
where I envisioned would be its home;
The ocean grabbed it from my hand,
I'd never witnessed a gesture so grand !

So I began to believe in a higher power,
which serves our souls from hour to hour;
And the world became a softer place,
where my anger could transform to peace.

The sun would shine and rain would fall,
the days proceeded in rainbow's shawl;
No more to doubt the cursed woes,
that traverse like nomads through the snows.

Oh, to my dear Lord I thank Thee sweetly,
for taking my stone to the ocean deeply;
It stood out among the raging plight,
which made us forget who owns the night.

Along the path of righteousness,
rising notions that are limitless;
Promote the lights of love and cheer,
rejecting minds encased in fear.

Inside a world that's mostly gray,
a friendly shadow shows the way;
Into a place which comforts all,
and spirits answer worthy calls.

Among the shadows that reappear,
are those which banish anguished tears;
For when the road seems quite insane,
this friendly shadow takes the reins.

My shadow falls across the land,
preparing me to take a stand;
To help the lowly victims of,
the evil that destroys all love.

And when the dreams of angels die,
a second shadow fills the sky;
Where empty hearts can soon recover,
in vows to cherish one another.

Along the path of righteousness,
rising notions that are limitless;
Promote the lights of love and cheer,
rejecting minds encased in fear.

Inside a world that's mostly gray,
a friendly shadow shows the way;
Into a place which comforts all,
and spirits answer worthy calls.

Among the shadows that reappear,
are those which banish anguished tears;
For when the road seems quite insane,
a peaceful shadow takes the reins.

My shadow falls across the land,
preparing me to take a stand;
To help the lowly victims of,
the evil which destroys all love.

And when the dreams of angels die,
a second shadow fills the sky;
Where empty hearts can soon recover,
with vows to cherish one another.

In the deepest canyons of the soul,
there's a burning torch of revelation;
That life can give us what we need,
if we look toward sweet salvation.

Seeking to traverse the obstacles,
those sins we've all committed;
We climb over rocks of redemption,
when angels deem to permit it.

Soon God releases us from pain,
with the promise of forgiveness;
As destiny grabs our aching hands,
to show us through the darkness.

This pursuit of love quietly continues,
along the many winding paths of life;
Relentless forces fuel eternal hope,
inspiring us to look toward heaven's light.

Distinct from every other way of thinking,
a memory casts its mystic clouds and visions;
Depending solely on the inner psyche's stance,
which wistfully calls upon each core illusion.

At once a faded thought from years gone by,
can generate and embellish countless scenes;
Which built a secluded world of cryptic moments,
that haunt our days and deepen our twilight dreams.

"Remembering When" can often be quite frightening,
or touch our hearts and souls through spiritual phases;
The sunny days of wonder pass by too quickly,
from vacant eyes which turn away their gaze.

Down the precious path of love's connection,
within swirling thoughts determining our fate;
We seek the clearest answers to lifelong questions,
when 'crossing over' toward heaven's open gate.

Under a brilliantly chilled blue sky,
the dusky cedars grow in strength;
While the serenity of newly fallen snow,
glitters in the sunlight's timeless bend.

Lost in an echo of angel's footsteps,
I seek the dimmer sanctuary of shade;
Hiding my inner thoughts from open spaces,
as the winter's sun burns sharper than a blade.

I hear the ringing rhapsodies of cardinals red,
spreading their sweetest notes across the plains;
While resting in the ragged twisted treetops,
the munificence of music's charm remains.

My thoughts were once a clamoring onslaught,
of tormented memories from my current loss;
Yet now my heart's awakened to a paradise,
as I silently relinquish that ill-fated course.

With one deep breath I rise amid the ashes,
of restless slumber's curse which held me back;
But with this wondrous world in resolution,
the hunger and the thirst no longer last.

I've spent so many hours in this room,
my mother's private place to rest;
She'd read, write, and drink coffee alone,
it gave her time to be at her best.

I know how much she adored her spot,
a cozy chair sitting by the window;
Where she could observe Nature's Glory,
the snow, the rain, the sun's magic glow.

It seemed to inspire her inner self,
the one who was truly literate and wise;
She'd light a cigarette and wistfully recall,
the moments which lingered within her sighs.

Mother's intellect was greatly admired,
as a librarian she was both kind and helpful;
Thank goodness she was always our mentor,
as we struggled with our assignments from school.

This tiny room was her only refuge,
from the noise and chaos of a large clan;
I close my eyes to see her in that chair,
for this is where living and learning began.

An image of strength and courage,
from a man of lowly means;
Taught me so much about life's trials,
and how music can wash it clean.

He stood on our sidewalk's corner,
while he played his saxophone;
Sometimes walking through the streets,
on a mission he followed alone.

A former soldier who'd lost his sight,
in his service during World War II;
And as folks would drop coins in his cup,
he'd often play their favorite tunes.

I watched him hold his head up high,
as he sported the red, white and blue;
His soulful melodies made me teary-eyed,
through his heart so clear and true.

'Back in the day' there was little relief,
for returning soldiers hurt and maimed;
I'd like to believe we can do much more,
to put an end to our country's shame !

Suffering through a tragic break,
knowing inside what was at stake;
Still believing in the mighty cause,
despite the handwriting on the walls.

The callousness of crass design,
from anguished heart and muted mind;
Against each fear we must confess,
in promising words we should profess.

With every piece of shattered dreams,
all wrapped up in plans and schemes;
Blanketing the world with colors pale,
and desiring only to tip the scale.

An atmosphere that doth proclaim,
the rebounding spirit of the game;
When love's doled out in tiny pieces,
a heartbeat swells then quickly ceases.

Forever lonely we all shall live,
with nothing left to borrow or give;
Regret and sorrow infuse our days,
as charity's tossed and blown away.

The old clock sat staunchly in the corner,
with such a stalwart stance;
It rang out with every hour's time,
like a memory of ancients past.

The table set for five was stilled,
with dust and dirt piled high;
Each window in the yellowed kitchen,
was cracked from the cold outside.

A slate-gray sky hung overhead,
threatening the town with early snow;
a young man listened to the roaring wind,
And a tear fell from his eye.

He used to live in this broken place,
with his wife and children at his side;
But the crops were mighty thin this year,
to his family, he bid a sad goodbye.

Now what to do with these remnants,
of a loving life he had known;
A garbled prayer slipped past his lips,
while his heart turned into stone.

Yet memories have a certain way,
of stirring our fervent desires;
With the storm approaching quickly,
he set out to light a fire.

And within the flames he caught a glimpse,
of the force behind all his dreams;
Which lifted him from his sadness and grief,
and willed his soul to be redeemed.

Asleep or awake the clock ticks on,
playing its same ridiculous song;
Fast or slow my heart is beating,
in motions that seem lost and fleeting.

A mournful night clouds memories,
of daylight hours in succulent breezes;
The wicked winds of darkness gasp,
while stars grow old in moonlight's grasp.

Frightened now I call out in pain,
but no one answers my plaintive refrain;
Warned by shadows of bleakness deemed,
that sleep won't rescue me from this dream.

A sickening feeling pervades my soul,
as forces beyond this scene unfold;
With nightmares of my past mistakes,
which cause my body to quiver and quake.

Yet once the morning light appears,
the episode dissolves in moments clear;
And with the sweat pouring down my face,
are signs of sorrow the dawn has erased.

Despite the haunting questions in my mind,
my words became a beacon in the dark;
I grabbed onto lines of favor and delight,
to capture all the lightning's eager spark.

I fought to scale the heights beyond the scope,
of imitating others whose words defined;
A limitless landscape depicting deep expression,
awakening thoughts which scattered over time.

Whenever I would write a lengthy stanza,
preposterous at times it may have seemed;
My heart would jolt inside me with a start,
to find I had created a worthwhile theme.

And when I found my voice had much to say,
far beyond the magical whirl of creativity;
Each script aligned in a calm and careful manner,
inspiring hope with cautious objectivity.

The shrillest cry of wound's refrain,
reverberates in haunting pain;
Without a lifeline to sustain,
the truth renounced within its reign.

Whenever puzzles go unsolved,
their secrecy of words absolved;
And honest measures are dissolved,
by eager minds' deceptive cause.

Yet returning to the power source,
where positive energy shows its force;
Through images that stay on course,
uplifting spirits from guilt's remorse.

Finally the truth has found its place,
by raising consciousness of grace;
While no one's soul becomes displaced,
each mindful error has been erased.

Rambling thoughts run through my mind,
ruminating, stirring, creating chaos;
I've awakened to these many times,
and wondered if I was still dreaming.

But looking around I see the truth,
of the inescapable boundaries here;
And cause my wanderings to appear,
as strange revelations outside my skin.

The walls close in around my eyes,
the ceiling becomes a monstrous roof;
Which suffocates me inside a world,
of wasteful moments of pain and fear.

Then--a sudden spark within my soul,
lifts me up through all the haze;
As confidence wins its rightful place,
and Divinity placates my troubled home.

My eyes will see what they're meant to see,
and I'll live this day most peacefully !

Rambling thoughts run through my mind,
ruminating, stirring, creating chaos--
I've awakened to these so many times,
and wondered if I could still be dreaming.

But looking around me I see the truth,
of the inescapable boundaries here--
Which cause my wanderings to appear,
as strange revelations inside my skin.

The walls close in around my eyes,
and the ceiling becomes a monstrous face--
Which suffocates me within a world,
of terrifying moments of pain and fear.

Then suddenly a spark within my soul,
lifts me high above this web of darkness--
As confidence wins its rightful place,
and Divinity placates my troubled home.

My eyes will see what they need to see,
and I'll live this day most peacefully.

Running in the eternal race of time,
searching for the roads to easier days;
Never fully knowing what lies ahead,
looking for ourselves within the haze.

Suddenly in mirrored circles do we see,
reflections shared of one another's faults;
Which bear essential words in frosted light,
excavated in spirals from secret vaults.

Forgiving not the spell that's duly cast,
on frequent plots by mystics at the center;
While roundabout lives crumble and unfold,
with endings choked into a careless banter.

This course we navigate is timeless yet,
each soul extending far beyond the sphere;
Of cherished thought indelibly replaced,
by traces of a past no longer feared.

High above the fluttering breeze,
a whispering voice calls out to me;
It's gentle lilt a subtle force,
which stirs my heart to stay on course.

I've often wondered where to look,
inside my mind or in a book;
For answers to the questions of,
each human's search for purest love.

In flowers' vibrant bloom of Spring,
or in the melting mountain springs;
A precious child's engaging smile,
or meeting friends to chat awhile.

As fresh and lovely winds arose,
emotions pure are soon exposed;
And with them regions of the soul,
are bound in honor's sacred goal.

The ominous waves crash to the shore,
a blazing sun sparkling upon them;
A turbulent ocean cries in ecstasy,
emitting many colors of precious gems.

Blue topaz glistens within its folds,
as cool emeralds land on the beach;
The pearly white of swirling foam,
bubbles and bursts in swift retreat.

But as sailboats float in the distance,
distinct in their parallel scheme;
Our eyes are met with diamonds,
a royal tribute to the dazzling scene.

Soon the afternoon sun begins to set,
spreading all its natural gleam;
And violet streaks reflect upon,
the undulating surface of the sea.

Follow scores of dancing sapphires,
cool and rich as an autumn sky;
Faithfully cruise against the horizon,
capturing starlight within their sighs.

The running river of life reflects,
the clarity of heaven's mood;
And with angelic flowers' shine,
bonds holy faith's eternal tune.

In satin ribbons each river flows,
from the planet's ageless corners;
Their icy sheen of steely blue,
flare up toward earthly borders.

The waters cast a melting mold,
of fairy tales and ghosts that live;
Among the silky evergreens,
which sit along the graceful ridge.

While discovering each watchful eye,
probe fully into shallow waters;
We rely on nature's saving grace,
to lift our souls in saintly comfort.

As we drove into the hazy sunlight,
each tree sang a song of the South;
The Spanish Moss and sassafras,
rose vividly in front of each house.

Our footsteps hit upon cobblestones,
as we walked through the park that day;
Where various monuments to local gentry,
loomed near lilac bushes on display.

The River Walk was such a surprise,
where many locals sold their wares;
Food and souvenirs in abundance,
and the scent of hydrangeas in the air.

A treat for those of us from the North,
to observe life in this lovely town;
Where churches stand in high regard,
and romance lingers all around.

The warmth of September upon us,
we climbed onto the river boat QUEEN;
The view from the water was sumptuous,
as the light from the boat still beamed.

I'll never forget our quaint little room,
that faced the precious park below;
A chance to watch the people stroll,
wandering off in the evening glow.

Our deck was like a silent chapel,
imbued with wine and sunset sighs;
We embraced when we heard music,
from a man's guitar as he sauntered by.

This wondrous night became a memory,
when we reached for the moon so high;
Then drank a toast to dear Savannah,
as the stars glistened in the indigo sky.

In a dream-like state we follow the words,
and images projected forward;
Inside our hearts we shake and quake,
with fear of moving onward.

Holding hands our voices muted,
waiting for the gypsy chant;
Closing our eyes in the darkened room,
as candlelight hails against the rant.

From nothingness arose a silver harp,
and a statue of beauty and grace;
A view marred by smoky essences,
which pervaded this somber place.

The howling from bewitched spirits,
increased the pounding inside my chest;
But one small token left behind,
set my helpless fears to rest.

I walked away with confidence,
and held his rosary in my hands;
Promising my father I'd "keep the faith,"
that would lead me to the promised land.

At last the sun decided to recede,
and dismal clouds suddenly appeared;
In grey-green puffs of swirling smoke,
while crystal rain fell down in tears.

The night seemed in an endless whirl,
of lightning bolts and blustery winds;
I closed my eyes when thunder raged,
and pulled the covers to my chin.

My room appeared as black as coal,
its shadows foretelling ageless tales;
Of great mysteries from ancient times,
while words dissolved into ghastly wails.

Soon awakened from restless slumber,
with profound relief at what I saw;
The burnished golden bloom of day,
as summer had turned into shining Fall.

The wild winds yielded a tragic tale,
and with it a song of sadness;
It seemed to serenade me along,
the pathway to righteousness.

Opening my heart from pain and hurt,
after such a horror touched my heart;
No comfort there to warm me,
or quell the shadows of the dark.

Sinister serenade with drums beating,
twisted the knife deep down inside;
Musical mayhem leaving me empty,
through the many tears I'd cried.

But then the winds somehow calmed,
as wicked thoughts were soon abating;
And November floated far from here,
with its slate-gray images dissipating.

An eerie calm disturbed the air,
yet the day became drenched in Spring;
With a serenade floating from the sky,
a second song to soothe my aching.

I recall the day this sorrow occurred,
with remembrances of what I'd lost;
But best of all I renewed my faith,
in the spirit of sweet music's touch.

An overflow of salty tears remains,
in hearts that covet love unrestrained;
The faded colors blanched and undefined,
with no more reasons left or undermined.

In quiet rooms that tell the tales beyond,
a world renowned for catastrophic bond;
Rises up and quells the cursed interference,
dismissing painful shadows in adherence.

The awesome glow of firelight brings pause,
to secrets gleaned from past events and cause;
No other sights diminished in the sphere,
dividing worlds of comfort far and near.

In due time these secrets have their way,
of revealing angry voices gone astray;
Yet wonders of the starlit sky commence,
in carrying missives in profound repentance.

The many twisted thoughts that linger,
behind the mask of happiness and joy;
Evolve into an overwhelming burden,
when clarity dissolves in cosmic ploy.

Brittle bones that ache in need of rest,
while empty hearts cry out within the sphere;
Of whirlwind notions still arousing chaos,
and mindful meanings seem to disappear.

This struggle for survival of the soul,
begins with turmoil rising from the core;
And hope falters in a wave of discontent,
until courage grasps the handle of the door.

Enduring faith can hold you in its arms,
and keeps the ghosts of wickedness at bay;
Then peace and comfort form a heavy shield,
which protects our wounded hearts from day to day.

When problems surface with complexity,
we often question our humanity;
As challenges to right the wrongs,
can sweep us into angry throngs.

While silence speaks in many words,
in ownership of thoughts unheard;
These fleeting moments are erased,
'till we can build a proper case.

Imagine an outcome that professes,
to sail beyond tragedy's confessions;
Relating each horror put in place,
then judging what we can't embrace.

Yet while the road is ending here,
our hearts decry the wasted fears;
And in the darkness of the night,
true justice follows with its might.