Ambush
An azure curtain is ripped in two
With scornful arrogance

Needle-points glow
Weaving the rift with intricate wefts
Of red
Of white
And blue

Heady aviation fumes
Lift us swimming
Skyward

Imaginations looping the loop

Across the dimly lighted room
The violin drew wefts of sound,
Airily they wove and wound
And glimmered gold against the gloom.

I watched the music turn to light,
But at the pausing of the bow,
The web was broken and the glow
Was drowned within the wave of night.

Swallows' games
in the summer sky.
They ****
flutter
play
drawing wefts
with black and white colours
and with embroideries
the blue vault
seems to be painted.
My eyes follow
but chasing them
they get tired
until exhausted I close them
and in the darkness
the swallows
still fly about.

30.6.'13

Quiet walks
Along the shore rocks
Waiting for a call
Just behind the seaweed wall

Turquoise shimmer
Dark shadows flicker
Candlelit meeting
For the one thing I've been needing

My legs become one
As I drift into the waters
Following one of Triton's daughters
Plummeting into the sea

But our time becomes limited
And back to the shore I drifted
Watching her slip away
Telling me come every other day

Looking out into the horizon's wefts
Begging God, "five minutes, please"
Love sunken with the memories
As she floats back into the oceans depths

Deep-rooted through time
This Norman arch,
Oak-like
Stands firm.

Over-arching
Buttresses and beams
Once wove wefts of
Warm reassurance.

Beneath oppressive clouds
Now a weary spire
Lifts a lone limp finger
Paying lip-service
To a memory.

Soiled latex
Sharp steel
Crushed aluminum
The offerings of straying pilgrims.

Illuminated lettering
The artful work of
New scribes:

God wos ere
lol


© Marcus Lane 2009

We are
the creatures
of the night
no tears for us
as we soar
taking on
such glorious
         heights
up through
trees, up
through the
invisible threads
between stars
in silvery wefts
I will bring home
the nourishment
to my little ones
nestled in their
warm nesty twiggy
holes safe curled
in lairs
we are
the protectors
of the light
that starts
in darkness
and arcs
        like a flare
we ride alone
but when we give
we yield
completely in
full thrusts and
curlicues,
glow-in-the
dark patterns
as leaves
cascade and
comets fall
around
the shadows
then, in the
morning's first
sun peeking
I land and find
that peace
a kind of
proximity to
that love
I'm
  seeking



'

languorous breeze,close to chest carries
a scent,an invitation on the waves of air,

the valley blooms lustily in response,
sends away fragrance with different notes.

the mix and blend to regale olfactory sense
of every visitor,as it pleases them,so much,

The medley of fragrance sends the breeze,
sweeping to an ecstatic height, never expected,

like a village weaver who loves warps and wefts
of many hues, he spins and weaves  fragrances,

to exhilarate all,near and far,any one who
deeply inhales the mix of fragrance,feels alive.
to the core,it's fuel to the wick, that enlightens the soul.

I have new lines,
New strands of consciousness,
New threads of mind.
I have new lisles,
New warps across,
New wefts around.
I have new sanity,
Minus preoccupation,
Plus sense and sound.

Old man time, now white with age,
Who holds the warps
And wefts of fate

Weaves a cloth of stars and moons
With fingers tired
And worn

In warps and wefts
I interlace a face in―
fine linen.

Are you frightened?
My thumb print goes awry.
You will not recognize me.

I bring the sameness
from inside out.
All night I suffered the elemental ache.

Like Dante you cannot
escape inferno. I don't need
any help, cannot climb out for lynx eyed.

The age inflicts, and
time bites. Still I witness through bleary eyes―
a moon rising.