Magenta gown - flares in the stream of a August breeze.
Petals aflow in the grove
that looms on the edge of the seas.
Sweet oleander and the starshine of unease.

Nerium spawn - wade in the flames of afterlight.
Leaves aflow in the grove
where bewitching toxins invite
sweet Pythia and the citadel of night.

Still wandering upon pathways of doom
where the laurel of madness is first to bloom.

Magenta gown - stills in the dark of a dawning sun.
Stamens aflow in the grove
as the shadows of memory are overrun.
Sweet island, the sacred threads are undone.

Queen of spectral shadows hiding in her mirror
with a gossamer shawl coiled upon her nape.
Where sunbeams drape, she refuses to appear --
a hostage of somber fear not longing for escape.

The waterfall's frozen over,
the river no longer pours
when love cannot show her
the daylight anymore.

Mystic maiden in a labyrinth of graves
clinging to her orisons that go unheard.
The story's blurred by prolix waves --
we could paraphrase but the poets are lost for words.

The canopy's an illusion,
the firmament splits at the seams
when love feels like an intrusion
that stalks in her fortress of dreams.

In the tranquil ocean mirror,
you see you where the ripples clear.
A cool ribbon of breeze
slips across the sand
dancing with your hair
like a bead of flaxen flame.

In your eyes of winter mist,
a field aloft in clouded bliss.
Rainbow's end cascades upon
a grove of swaying palms
as the crackle of waves
whirls over the marigold plain.

Haunted winds caressed her pallid face,
bestowed before me in ornamental grace
as I sung an aria for our sorrow 
lilted with silent dreams.

In the dusk begotten serenade,
where spectral lanterns glow,
I found her on the riverbed;
a transparent body cloaked in souls.

I brushed upon my golden strings
to cast a weary strain
unfettered from the pain.

Cool winds caressed her auburn blaze
as enchantment forsook our future days.
I mumbled an aria for desperation
trapped upon the dreamlit stream.

A patter of waves,
my hands adrift,
no silence soothes this graveyard shift.

My beacon turns and unveils the night
as I ache for calming in this forlorn rite.
I’ve no shelter from the maelstrom
gathering across the sea.
I’ve known for so many years now
the fate that falls before me.

The ocean grants
a melancholic gift;
a patter of waves, my hands adrift.

Silence lain in the shallows,
perched on the stillness of sea.
This moment of calm adorns you
nestled in your ponderous canopy.

While time lay fragmented
in motionless play,
it's a simple beauty
sketched upon the bay.

Your music of emptiness,
constantly everpresent,
shall wait silently broken
where waves come to crash.

Solitude paints your mind
lauding the soundless grace.
Slivers of peace entwine you
within the ocean lace.

Mountains awash in a flood of dawn,
solace slips through the silent cavern.
Naked branches beckon to the clouds
drifting in an astral pattern.

Cyan vein of meandering rivers
intermingling with the isles,
while peering from the evergreens
your jasper sunrise smiles.

Morning cadence
dancing on diamond waves
where the cool winds
brush the sills and palisade.