Autumn mornings filtered
gentle daylight on sunbeams
across cityways
and warm-tinted sidewalks,
upbeat lofi humming
with the dove's sorrowful song,
while weaving past
the struggles days bring.

As sunbeams graze my cold cheeks,
I am reminded that
We too have the power
To warm the world with
Our beautiful light.

Rampant, errant fog
Along a river’s shore,
Once caressing silt and log,
But it vanished just before

The stolen, wayward plumes
Along the glistening sand,
Kissed and missed the ground,
Then fled into a different land.

Mist surrendered fast,
Beneath spears of lowering light,
And silver swords that fight,
Shivering silver into glass.
And Dawn lay down at last.

Dust balances in the sunlight
Curtaining a mystery room
Of hazy sunbeams
Working fabric of gold
From its sacred loom
Spindles turn in ballet curve
And mingle in a hue
Of bright clarity
And hidden to the few
Who believe
They never see the view

Sunbeams,
Kisses to my day dreams.
After thoughts on Romanticism.
Days passed,
Days I've wished had stayed present.
Sleeping eyes that open,
Smelling dew drops on a light breeze
Of that of a new morning,
And soon to come fresh rain,
Ready to be danced in.

The sun
Is glad to see your face,
Your unseen grace,
Your Hidden space,
Your
Silhouette now covered in sun beams.
It seems
You've been
Packed away for a very long time
Its almost a crime how you've
Shielded yourself from his hydrogenity.
The sun
Is glad to see your smile
Your pearly whites
And colorless lips
Soft,
Too cold,
needing,
Craving,
warmth.
His
Golden fingers graze your cheek
And Bring life back to your pallor.
Who knew
Living as a recluse would make you so blue,
So unidentifiable?
He Brings you back from the dead
Pulling your soul back out
into your flesh.
Fresh
And healed,
At least Temporarily
But it
is enough,
His touch,
To liven your now tanning skin
To Make you akin to his own:
A sunflower
Trapped in the dark
3 inches tall instead of 3 feet
Now starting to grow beyond skyscrapers with his aid,
if his light is what's causing you to
Stand up straight
His heat is what is reviving your heartbeat
A Crescendo from silence to a slight pitter patter
Almost as soft as rain.
Almost as if crying.
If you listen hard enough,
You just might hear it wimpering, waking up from it's hibernation.
It
Wants to go back to sleep
But he
Refuses to give up his efforts of recesitation
For he knows it isn't for naught,
For he knows that it is working,
Your heart stirring
Beating
Louder as you step further out of the door frame
Let him
Cradle your soul with his firey hands
Let him
Bring you back from the dead.
You Look so much more alive when you let him work his magic on you.
The world
Has missed you.
Looking around,
Your mind starts whirring,
Analysing The outside world.
The Green of the grass and the
Blue of the sky,
All Graces of the solar angel shining over you,
Shining into you.
Giving you sight,
Giving you life,
Giving you the things you couldn't have before.
Let his
Golden happiness seep into your freezing bones,
And,
Turn them into torches
And burn brighter, in the daylight
Than you ever did in the darkness.

As the sun creases my eyes open
It ignites, starts an explosion
It continues the erosion
Inside my head
It all turns red
It's where it's bled

I shake the cobwebs from my head
Looking into the future with dread
New tragic things will come my way
Try as I might to keep it all at bay

The residue from last night's dream
The echo of my screams
The bright warm sunbeams
Can not chase away
The thoughts of the day
Where my demon play

I live a life where smiles are miracles
Happiness is only mythical
It all leaves me cold and miserable
Guess that's why I'm so cynical
All I really want is a life that's livable

Swirling morning mist, draws abstract patterns of love
moving sprightly,  between golden rays of sun,
prattling  breeze and other manifestations winter presents,
green grass on the meadow looks like a dew studded carpet
pussyfooting rabbits, lick dew drops in a hurry and run back
to the warmth of their burrows, to sleep for some more time.

Sun, the nourisher eternal of the world , don't hide anymore
come out, peep above the crowd of sleepy grey old clouds,
looking grumpy, ill mannered and winter arrogant to the core,
don't like their attitude a bit, come out blow your trumpet of warmth
make the drooping wet birds, dry, fly up to the sky with a happy cry
sing songs of joy, warm the hearts,drive the winter gloom out.