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.

Ocean winds drape your isle,
I can see you dreaming,
but when you wake
and find the world has gone
will you remember me
as I was upon the horizion?

Turquoise waves sweep the shore,
I can see you singing
and when you play
your magic instruments
will you remember those
who sculpted the mountains?

It all seems so familiar.
You have a place to return to
but you've never been there before.

Summer tryst to bygone days,
I can see you laughing.
So when you gaze
upon the vast water-scape
will you find a stretch of land
and make of it a home?

Teal equinox drifting over the valley
tangled in a crystal chain of stars.

Ghosts of the universe spiral endlessly.
Mind in a shell of illusions we’ve made;
iron, earth, and air.

Dawn’s haloed sky stretches over the mountain locked in a veil of silver fog.

Jewels of infinity cradled in our hands.
Knots of wind come unraveled by the night;
salt, sun, and gold.

Gazing out your cerulean diamonds
past the rippled shore
toward the sunrise bursting on the horizon
and you swear you’ve never felt this before.

A wave-caressed *******,
where sea-winds lift the wailing gulls,
and you’re dancing to the calypso
flooded with ardor
and answering the call 
for voyage on the water.

Another day and the helm is turning.
In the midnight trance, your sails are drawn.
The crew say these clouds are blurring
your painted vessel of this summer's dawn.

The mast is towering in the salty air
and the sun is showering your seaward stare.

Cedars on the ice-blue horizon,
lonely hills shrouded in hawthorne groves
curling over the mantle of snowy white.
Tones of a breeze brush through the trees,
like adagio for wintry symphonies.

Echoes of a river
sweep along the secluded forest of gray.
Scarlet clouds streak through the sky
in twilight’s dwindling gaze.
Stones of a glade near the solemn cascade,
entwined in a starlit sewn serenade.

Echoes of the water hymn
meander on empty boulevards -
I trod this sunken labyrinth on the sea.
I watch silk-clad cherubim
standing near the milky shards
as they join a haunted melody.

The girl sculpts lamenting statuettes
on the sunlit crown.
Countless hours within the tower
nesting angels in her lillywhite gown.

Ghosts of a shipwreck
pour into the starboard garden
and I paint their tears like pieces of an ocean.
They wander on the fore-deck
and sing as the eggshells harden.
I see to the dawn, filled with strange emotion.

She swims in the moonlight
as her body stills.
A winged flight in the fading night
while the chalice of golden wine overspills.

Sunday's somewhere in the teal dawn
wandering on a lukewarm breeze.
Monday pens weary travelogues
with fugal prose of frozen seas.

Tuesday holds a gilded halo
of sunlit cirrus atop the knoll.
Wednesday gathers ornate words
and begets infinity upon a scroll.

Pale gleams flutter
upon a lap of willowing streams
and in a dream, the sun melts
as the moon sets at the end of my bed.

Island marooned, mana consumed,
and with ancient runes, a song is stitched
as love is woven in the white of wool threads.

Thursday hums a quiet tune
and lilts over the azure morn.
Friday trods the afternoon
through blossom and thorn.

Saturday nestles in cool dusk;
a shroud of purple-painted skies.
We'll blot a scarlet streak of stars
and crown the night with your hazel eyes.

Hold
on to
these moments
before the year
fades;

you've
no more
in the vale
of your dreaming
mind.

Like
ripples
aswim in
the vast ocean
wane,

so
to will
your echoes
at the end of
time.

Candle speaks molten wax
cascading upon the burning brass.
Flame trembles sideways
like an ocean's swaying tides
to host spectral ambiance
as the black smoke subsides.

Candle weaves autumn scents
wavering about the tenement.
Tables covered in crumpled paper
where solitary thoughts are marred
in essence, beauty, and fragility
as the black wick is charred.

Candle breathes a mellow light
flickering in the frigid night;
there's winter white strewn
on the pine-shaded lawn.
Lamppost corona hides
as black trees greet the dawn.

Candle gleams like lighthouse glow,
the beacon of my solemn home,
guiding paper boats from wreck,
and luring lost ideas ashore.
Heartbeat holds the harmonic key
yet my weary mind has no door.