I dreamt of our house, which doesn't exist...
I'll light a candle in it and greet the dawn.
I'll feel sad by candlelight. I'll be missed.
I want you'll be near me in our house for long!

I'll walk into the garden, which doesn't exist...
I'll pick white camomiles and make a bunch.
I'll put it on the table. It'll be my feast.
Just fly into my dream! I please you much!

We'll stroll in a forest, which doesn't exist...
I'll mass there an armfull of autumn leaves.
I'll throw them into the sky. They'll be a mist.
And they'll be falling slowly under the breeze.

I dreamt of our house.  And maybe is it?
It's somewhere over the hill, green all.
The garden is so very overgrown. I'll revive it.
I'll light the candle for you to come for all.

Warmth of candlelight
Sweet with our loves caresses
Within the Rose moonlight

Reynaldo Casison

Not long ago
the twilight called you into her arms;
into to the depths of the unknown,
left your name in the care of this world
sweetest sound that leapt from your mother’s lips
and ours.
The tides where you are is unperturbed
by the mortal wind,
and in the clouds a garden sprawls
and thrives at the tip of its universe.
We can only imagine.
If such letter scribbled here shines a light; if our candles burn
may you find it a star in the night.


You are no more,
no more to share this borrowed life;
no more treading in the stream of time;
no more but with me still, stirring yet ever still,
shattered heart never heals.
as the last rays of the sun through the window of your room dim,
Your soul is lit up in our dreams,
as though a candle that eternally burns,
I bid time, return
for you my father had taken flight,
silence lingers in restless nights,
where you be, you be
for we shall have our time,
to reflect on this life; the endless sea
for too, shall we; in the crossroads meet the end of our journey: an inevitable destiny
and where you be, we be.

candlelights

destined lighthouse keepers 

shining light in my eyes

my eyes lighten up your eyes

our eyes illuminated hearts

two candlelights in the far distance

destined lighthouse keepers

Onto a crumpled, weathered parchment
he bleeds out  his love for her

And she,  in turn
finds words,  that wax poetic

Flowery words.  pretty words

Words that rhyme,
quarter tones of time

Flowers, hearts, peer-laden smiles
lined up-- all, in a pretty little line

There is a spattered blood,
on tattered parchment,   still

and, still..  no less mine

I watch the candle flicker
Moonlight streaming through
My open window
A soft breeze dancing along my skin
This is it, I think
What happiness is
This serenity, calming feeling
Where nothing bothers me
And I feel nothing at all

I was wrong.