A dream, a dream, bound by lucidity!
Environs bedight with beauteous things--
Th’ verdant leaves, founts, and springs;
Th’ robins embosomed by ebon trees.
And sing, they sing! Mid this august dream
So hearken I th’ avian euphony.
And th’ melody of th’ azure seas
Th’ seas, th’ seas that lie abreast th’ sylvan dwelling
As the aureus eye above clothes th’ nature ‘neath.
Yon roses vermillion, and meadows green,
Th' gilded skies, and th' hawthorns’ blossoming,
Th’ novel life that sprouts of minute seed,
Th’ boughs whither pend th’ gossamer berries.
All by dint of Apollo’s waxing.
And as morn’s hour betokens departure of sleep
Will I enjoy what remains of oneiric state, ere farewell ‘t bids me.
O rejoice, rejoice! Doth abound such felicity mid this ethereal dream.

The man of Keos once penned—
Poema pictura loquens,
Pictura poema silens.
Thus, will the quill be my brush;
The page, my canvas;
My words, the sundry hues.
O a picture of mute verse
Will I produce!

The seas may be calm now,
Though, grow not complacent,
For the swell is sure to come.

no matter what you look like,
where you come from,
or what you believe in...

there will always be a
community out there
that accepts you
for who you are.

if i could
give one piece
of advice

it would be
to learn from
the past,
not live in it