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beth fwoah dream Sep 2022
the sea with her songs and her freedom,
a rose in the desert tonight,

while the night with her beauteous wisdom,
holds the sky like the wings of a kite,


the moon is a ghost white and eerie,
skies carry the bird’s weary cry,

while the clouds dream of rain, brimming teary,
with each hollow sigh.


our love lies like ash long departed
and freedom's the wilds of the coast

and the sky where the swallow once darted,
has no star with their silvery frost,


oh, lover no love then could ever
be wiser or bolder than ours,

or lost as quickly with each new endeavour,
bewitched like the flo'ers.



so lover i wait here forever,
where the waves of the blue ocean swell,

a bride to the storm and the ether,
my song the sea's silvery knell,


for the muse sings of darkness forever,
and dark is the song ever sung,

and the sea finds its bow and its quiver,
and air fills her lung.


i'll wrap all my dreams in white paper,
and carefully tie with a bow,

then lay them all out with the ashes,
that lie where the wild berries grow,


and no one will ever e'er find me
and i will be lost in the end,

torn under the coast where the seas be
the voice of the land.


night grows from the death of the evening,
evening carries her stars and her seas,

the morning without ever seeming,
delights the bright sighs of the breeze,


dark voice of the sky and the landscape,
dark eye of the turbulent sea,

moon emperor, discoverer, wan dreamscape,
love jealous and free.

— The End —