Lazing in an unbroken innocence;
a whirled undersea, under me.
Blazing tides taking hold of ambivalence
a calm serenity sweeping through the boundless deep.

An oceanic labyrinth,
rolling in the shadows of the sea.

Gazing past an apparent diffidence;
a cold melody for remedy.
Minding these subterranean incidents,
my torn identity plunges in a swirling stream.

An oceanic labyrinth,
roaming in the dimness of the sea.

Moonset slips beneath a steel sea;
crescent sailing on the starless deep.
I sketch the hallowed sky in my dream.

Sunrise lifts from under the hills,
music stirs as dawnlight spills.

Horizon bursting,
a choir rehearsing
requiems for fallen friends.

Moonchild in the lap of a pine
singing for the wordless divine.
She wanders on the waves of her mind.

Magenta gown - flares in the stream of a August breeze.
Petals aflow in the grove
that looms on the edge of the seas.
Sweet oleander and the starshine of unease.

Nerium spawn - wade in the flames of afterlight.
Leaves aflow in the grove
where bewitching toxins invite
sweet Pythia and the citadel of night.

Still wandering upon pathways of doom
where the laurel of madness is first to bloom.

Magenta gown - stills in the dark of a dawning sun.
Stamens aflow in the grove
as the shadows of memory are overrun.
Sweet island, the sacred threads are undone.

Queen of spectral shadows hiding in her mirror
with a gossamer shawl coiled upon her nape.
Where sunbeams drape, she refuses to appear --
a hostage of somber fear not longing for escape.

The waterfall's frozen over,
the river no longer pours
when love cannot show her
the daylight anymore.

Mystic maiden in a labyrinth of graves
clinging to her orisons that go unheard.
The story's blurred by prolix waves --
we could paraphrase but the poets are lost for words.

The canopy's an illusion,
the firmament splits at the seams
when love feels like an intrusion
that stalks in her fortress of dreams.

In the tranquil ocean mirror,
you see you where the ripples clear.
A cool ribbon of breeze
slips across the sand
dancing with your hair
like a bead of flaxen flame.

In your eyes of winter mist,
a field aloft in clouded bliss.
Rainbow's end cascades upon
a grove of swaying palms
as the crackle of waves
whirls over the marigold plain.

A patter of waves,
my hands adrift,
no silence soothes this graveyard shift.

My beacon turns and unveils the night
as I ache for calming in this forlorn rite.
I’ve no shelter from the maelstrom
gathering across the sea.
I’ve known for so many years now
the fate that falls before me.

The ocean grants
a melancholic gift;
a patter of waves, my hands adrift.

There I glanced,
entwined within the cool warmth
of a summers dawn,
toward a swell of blazing teal
and its oceanic paragon.

A whirling spray of silver waves
caressed my face and washed my dreams.
I wandered along the grassy rim
with eyes beguiled and mind agleam.

A vision of morning grace
within the blur of misty lace.