Paints of dark twilight hues,
Slathered across in blunt strokes.
Blend with deft hands,
Cajole gently with jabs and pokes.

Backdrop begging for a few others.
Longing to hold in infinite embrace.
Friends of earth and midnight sky.
Worthy of a doe-eyed lovers' gaze.

Cascading moonbeam...
Drenching all in silvery white.
Restless twinkling stars...
Singing their mismatched might.

Silhouetted landscape as horizon,
Darkened oils of plateaued ridges.
Finest brush could only manage,
To close the gap, I build bridges.

Nearing completion, this stint on canvas.
Nuances of dawn for what I've begun,
Usher the arrival of a brand new day.
All I need now is a few drops of sun.

Fingertips dance through fog,
Particles alight in treetops,
Waves ripple upon his face,
Cities below, nature engulfs us,
On the mountain top, winds blow:
I turn not from society, yet find essence far from man,
He is all that I have been, and will be,
I reach out to touch a single sundrop, and feel,
Duality in an instant, yet still I am me.

Sundrops and melted hearts
fill the streets in their empty parts
where the asphalt starts to tear and break
the melty bits fix the mistake
And flowerbeams and rainbow-daggers
launch attacks until sadness staggers
clutching at a mortal head-laceration
the tears have now left the station

So it is that on a sunny day
A funny day, a Mon-i-day
The good bits make better
The cheeks that were wetter
When good thoughts had all gone away

the sky over i-95 is violet, the color of the deepest bruise
like the one you actually remember getting, that eclipsed
all the little gray-green ones from
tripping over belgian blocks, and mismeasuring the distance
to the doorframe.
the sky over i-95 cannot hold water very long
and soon it doesn’t.

you look out the new-car window
silent windshield wipers and you remember
the other times it’s rained on your occasion
(with stinging peroxide sometimes, and
sometimes gasoline, when you had a match
in the glovebox,
but mostly water).

you never stopped liking the way the big trees swayed
in the not-quite-hurricane
or the deafening of the drops on the car’s aluminum backbone.
you used to trust they’d never fall, they’d never flood
the crashes you passed rubbernecking were never fatal
traffic would always clear
you’d never be late.

as you watch the oversized leaves support the waterweight today
you think how every bit of that is gone from you now
siphoned slowly and quietly but
unmistakably gone from you now
you think in matter-of-fact sentences because you are a grown-up:
“I do not trust the trees. I do not trust the raindrops.”

quieter you think
“I do not trust the future. I do not trust an empty building.
I do not trust the movie theater. I do not trust the ocean,
or the river. I do not trust water
when I can’t see the bottom.”

you get a little philosophical as you get hungry and the exit numbers get high
“I do not trust the highway. I do not trust me. I do not trust the curtains
to keep me safe when I sleep, and I do not trust waking to bring me morning.”

you think in matter-of-fact sentences because you are a grown-up,
but also because that’s how the thoughts come.
there’s something that you do trust
that’s enough to warm you as this unseasonable may
comes to a close.
you never stopped liking the way the big trees swayed
and you think how they might fall
but they haven’t yet.
you think how it’s kind of okay not to trust them:
you trust something else.

                                                   (pain is lucrative.
                                                   so is smiling.)

                 a female cardinal perches outside the window of
                 the room, just as you arrive to leave again
                 and you think how she's just as pretty as the
                 candy-apple-red male, though she's dark against the tree trunk

and when you’re back to celebrate the years since leaving
you might even trust that tree trunk
and the girlcardinal you have to squint to see

                                                   you might also trust morning, then,
                                                   and night.

meantime, the sky lightens:
sundrops while the rain comes loudly still.

i will write simply
like a snow melt in the spring
water brings music
and our feet are washed clean
remind the stars that we named them
even if they take our souls
we will forge them again in the fireplace
and breathe life back into them
soon we can rest in the music
but first let us use them
just like we were meant to
now is the space
to give your heart its grace
so we feed the lakes
their icy beverage
and make the songs that melt the frost

i arrived like fire
when rain was your only hope
our souls washed in the burning sun
the conundrums of love
somebody escaped with our watermelons
sundrops upon the lake
feelings we can never shake
our ecstasy is awake
and we have outgrown our shallows
swallowed by the hand of fate
our lives we did partake in
yes we have reached further
into the thick of it
into the blackest night
i walked into my own dismay
and displayed upon the sky
was the light that caught your eye
like threads of shredded rope
as darkness could never
cope with the worst of it
i sold all of our hope
for you should never
have to ***** for emptiness
send me the wisdom
to unleash you from this prison
so please give me another kiss
and fill me with your stories
for now we will forever know
that dreams are only allegories

Early morning, adorned
in a cloak of cerise and viridian,
roams the dark of a seashore
through waves of obsidian.
Summer in pearly decorum,
the harbor blazed with multicolored sails.

Noontide aloft on sundrops
of saffron luminance,
traces the rows of begonia
and shading cumulus.
Summer in amethyst mantles,
the meadow doused with flower-laden trails.

Evening, abliss in the cape
of sunning indigo,
wades in crystalline waters
as the plazas overflow.
Summer in sienna streetlights,
the taverns filled with sentimental tales.

i wish i could have known you
a lot better a lot younger
so i could see you like this
sundrops on your kisses
with colour in your eyes
fingers trail the frosty panes
as we trade breath on these
cool winter mornings
our hands forming hearts
in the left over spaces
between fingers that hold
my soul delicately carefully
touched by the moon and the stars
as our fingers run over the frosty
winter glass

Hold my hand and fly, and fly
My sweetest Caroline
Falling is the nectar of life
Like sundrops, from your eyes
Sing of souls once downtrodden
Who will see light in you again
Hold in time, this hand of mine
My sweetest Caroline

Keep in view, in view is you
My lovely Ashley Ruth
Pray in day your dreams come true
Though these dreams of yours are few
Keep in mind the hopes you treasure
Love is truth, not always pleasure
Float right through from greys to blues
My lovely Ashley Ruth

Run as if the summer wind
My darling Madelyn
Show the spring where to begin
In this cold world we live in
Stand stronger than the maelstrom
Pray for what the world might become
Heart of gold in plains of tin
My darling Madelyn

you start me off winter cold
as shivers then good as golden sundrops warm
me up as tea leaves swirl me as I used to laugh
good as staying under warm covers all afternoons
what day can be as this besides what I have
with tearing through the tv guide  when
the sun is low in the distance and the day begins
early and ends about five
not time to drive around nor time to save you

Sundrops kiss the wintry chills

And vibrant fields of flowers bring

While spilling over dancing hills

Dew and songs of dawning spring

I did not let go in a shower
butterfly wings and
golden sundrops
Not in a cloud
where the rattling of the descent
sent soft rustles and
shivers rippled through the
child watching
Wide eyed
bright mind
purest confetti
for the party of one
                                                                                         (a coming of age)

no,
i let go
little
and late
                                                                                                   (and alone)

Reflection of  sundrops
As diamonds moving
rough bright rock vulcanos
Goldmines shining
through the grounds ,
in the dirt hiding
Ready for mining
Pearls under sea at
oceans bottom
Sheltered by  shells
Covered up by plastic waste
All this richness of this earth
in the darkest of all places.
That’s the beauty of Mother Nature
Till greed of men ruined everything.
Global warming at the end.
End of planet Earth , Human kind
and Mother Nature


Shell ✨🐚

"When Fiona Smiles"

When Fiona smiles
It's like sundrops from heaven
Moonbeams in the night sky
Rainbows in the valley

When Fioana smiles
It's like stardust in the northwoods
A sea breeze in the harbor
The sunrise in the morning

And the angels sing as the trees sway
The birds wing, the children play
It's made easy, the many miles
On this journey
When Fiona smiles

When Fiona smiles
It's butterflies in the sunshine
A warm breeze in the valley
Feathers in the moonlight

And the angels sing as the trees sway
The birds wing, the children play
It's made easy, the many miles
On this journey
When Fiona smiles
When Fioana smiles

Ring, ring, ringing a bell
And singing towards the sound of crystals.
Too cold for a moonlight shine;
Too hot for a feast’s flame;
However just right it is, how softly
It sits and waddles its paws,
Little sundrops flop over the delicate
Leaves of colourful imagination.
A comfortably scorched piece and
To be seen tomorrow, see you next time.