It was the end of August
in one peaceful night.
The wind dozed off for a while
and freedom floated around in the air.
Walking beneath the summer sky
You could feel
                 how each heartbeat
                                  turned into a star!
That’s why they spread so much light – the stars!
They carry deep within
A hope,
           A dream,
                        A promise.

Swept away
by the impetuos wind of the heart
A white cloud
wonders through the blue of the sky
like a restless dream of love.

The sun shines through him
upon the green water of the lake
and in each sparkle of light
I see hope coming alive.

Days flash past my shadow
Unable to distinguish your face.

Missing someone is overestimated
An individual can't be missed
But how you felt in his presence
Will subsist.

Love conquers as endless matter
Thus exposing your heart is key,
For a new world to perceive.

An unknown yet
familiar ardor rushes through my veins,
I thence forsee you're present but somehow
Gone away.

Humankind around neglected you
Trust is reasonably locked into your gut
Disowning is no option,
Neither patronizing you;
Been there myself.

Dark nights
Dark thoughts;
Disoriented your head,
But reincarneted who you are today.

Don't contemplate there is no better.
Stand high on your feet,
Drown yourself on memories
That once made you
Complete.

Perhaps I'll never be your future,
Perhaps my existence to you is nonsense.
Straightforwardly;
Merely knowing you're no longer lost,
Will be my cue for moving on.

Child of mine please know

All things have a season

All things have a time

If stars can fall, then crash and burn

Humans fight and fail to learn

Then time has nought to teach

The blind will never learn to see

And the deaf will fail to hear

Even mighty rivers run dry

And seas can also die

Today

my heart stopped beating

But time has taught me this...

Love is where you find it

Follow joy wherever you can

Hope can spring eternal

Fellowship remains in man

I tip my hat to the Poetess,
the Word Witch whose spin enthralls,
with language arranged in patterns,
and verse that often calls.

Her art is to conjure images,
the Sorceress whose quill entrances,
with phrase beautiful in texture,
and a word that often dances.

Her creations are her offspring,
the High Priestess whose rhymes capture,
with stanza's keen in construction,
and meanings that evoke pure rapture.


© Pagan Paul (24/07/16)