Skim

Glide,

Oh sorrow

Speak softly of tomorrow

With wings,

My light,

You’ll see it bright

Upon the window’s surfaces

And find, you might,

Your written purposes

Speak loudly, not today

And upon morning’s “hi”,

Fly!

March not, Dear Beauty

Legs will not secure duty

And fail you

Mistake not, your bright purpose,

And skim to your knight slumber

Misery, be gone!

Flight, take on! 

A Curse Called Sweeping Sleep

Stopping to inhale,

Pulsing subsides

Timelessly fighting,

Frightening lightning,

Spilling sparks on pavement

Fresh to the touch,

But not quite inviting

Sleep finds my eyes,

And stops mysterious cries

Peace at night,

Speaks of rest

Morning brings Strayness

And rest for the restful

Depart I shall not

“Swept away,” I thought

Waking in a Wonder

In the eclipsing caves of the highland

My morning sight gazes

Into the vat of peculiar shimmering water

My chemist mindset finds

Palladium present

The vat empties to somewhere

With the whine of a violin

My ears, a guide

Not that I’d confide

“Refresh,”

Whispered the morning mist

Green, of the Orchard

And scented of its pears

Seeping out all worries and cares

The Waterstill’s face,

Is below where I stand

Offering a mysterious hand

The Still fills the pool beneath

And runs into the forest

The Keyper there feeds

And fills the land with all its needs

Sea Ribbons