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Quote by: Michael Bassey Johnson
“Beyond the veil lies what our eyes cannot see, skin cannot feel and consciousness cannot absorb.”

A parting thought in the middle of ordinary time
flesh wants to stay but the heart wants to soar  
inside a broken temple the intervals of misery persist,  
and so she flies into a world, untouchable as the dawn;  
She is a castaway in  a land far away  
a daydreamer disentangled from the rip tide of reality  
a torn vessel gliding through a shroud, most High.
Forty cubits long and twenty cubits wide
she fits in the palm of His hand, like a small Jesus.  
It takes three hundred Sacred Angels
to appease her ear-shattering cries  
Each time she flies here to this place,
her wistful sadness disappears.

This is a place where  all good girls go to die  
where the agatat sound of a tearing veil
and the arcanum whisper of God prevails,
a place where a child is heard and paried, in love.
Longing for the flowers that adorn my garden patch
I open wide the door that I imagine sits unlatched
Inside this magic land of mine, I'm longing to explore
every dainty blossom bud arranged with sweet adore
Une belle epoque, ..."a period of high artistic view"
each boutonnieres a whisper of, " and how are you ?"
Abiding in the charms of my annual florets,
I sit and take to wonder, how it is that we first met
It was Maytime and the sun was oh ! bran new
yes we were enamoured and we stuck like crazy glue
Two petals sharing one flower, we clung like poetry
leaning on each other sharing secrets, drinking tea
Oh but that was long ago, when love was all we knew
two flowers growing wild aside some gentle feverfews
Steadfast as the sun and moon we were back then
as I sit here in my garden for the life of me,
I cannot remember, when ?
(A PERSONIFICATION POEM )

I was born cradled inside your palm  
within the perimeters of a safe haven  
brought to life by loving silty fingers
Rose is what I heard you call me
staying true to my appellative name
I chose to bloom inside your heart  
Many butterflies and bumblebees
sat on my flowerhead but only you
were the apple of my eye, dear heart
I was born to please you and only you
enclosed and surrounded I thrived,
like a rose, in a tangled mess of flowers.

Written by Mystic Rose
Bursts of blooming colors in my garden fair
every bud is beauty, born of love and toil  
Rays of sunshine easy days and breezy air
cordial flowers flushed with color coil

Nature sings of all creation its here and there
a joyful world of wonder heart's embroil
Calliandra feather sweeps of angel hair
silver artemisias slick as linseed oil

Garden art, its all about the artist's flair
every shoot and floweret is alive with dare
radiant things growing on blessed soil
like cordial flowers flushed with color coil

Bursts of blooming colors in my garden fair
rays of sunshine, easy days and breezy air.
Travel with me and enter
into the flower carpeted mountain meadows
of my youth;  
Lose yourself  in the wild beauty which resides within  
God's tinted skies of yellow and vermouth.
Vested memories held captive by eidetic moments,  
"Oh blessed beating heart, "
enter the flowered thoughts of a poet's nest, delve into the  
sanctuary of God's Grace,
for it is here that you belong.  
Seen through the eyes, felt with the heart
ensconced with a soul your free to roam,
inside roads less traveled, where timeless voices
are heard, through the echoes of all time.

You belong to the One who has given you,
both shape and creed.
Glass illusions forestry of butterflies in flight
swiveling and turning wing, aiming for sun
hovering over lulling waters of purple hues  
Breathing like flowers, frilling up the air
inside a cornucopia world of rich and bright
Birds are calling from afar symmetrical chirps
of grandeur, across the wide expanse
nocturnal illumination of the heart and soul
Varathane music sonatas, flute escapades  
within a dormant brook, nature's usurp
Fairies, trellises, and magic twigs interlinked
inside the Foloi forest, the mighty oak respires
aside centaurs and dryads, of their time
an emerald green, bottled by nature herself
all is transformed here even the sky is pinked  
Altered, Remodeled, Reworked, Transformed,
by my sweet, poetic imagination...
                           "Follow Me  "
Mid February dreams amongst the winds of change
I am waiting for the season to relinquish its hold
like the frost on the  rooftops, the snow at my door
sooner or later will be no more...
I am watching the pine tree swaying in the cold sun
dipping its branches, courtesies of a winter's day
A piano plays softly in the background
as I sit here contented as a well fed cat
Mid February dreams amongst the winds of change

From my rocking chair, lavender fields remembered
sun born kisses with eyelet flashes of white linen
suntanned arms raised before a blue, blue ocean
airborne on a surfing board secured as an eagle
like a beach boy I flew, and who ever knew
She came to me like an August dream and
slipped her tiny hand in mine, we became one
like the summer stars in the sky when they bly
from my rocking chair lavender fields, I remember

Winter enclosures well aged in composure I sit to admire  
the view, amazed at how everything secretly, expires.
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