Sylvan Symphony

though imperceptible but beheld
Her Melodies be Woodlands’ Breath—
Colloquy of Wind and Trees and Lakes
 Sunshine and Moonlight
Darkness and Heaven’s Tears
and Beasts all vying for Turf—
remote from Clamor’s and Blight’s
stampedes upon Cement and Runway Skies
and Addictions to Airwaves—
for an unknown Term
Nature’s uncultivat’d Realm

Park Sans Colour

Globe of Fire in Clouds be embellish’d—
tho Spectrum feinting  to Hues’ Absence—
at present ‘tis Beauty of Complexion fresh—
trancing Visions to newer Frenzies

Which Way Today?

Somewhere
between Forest and Sea
be Bridge Transparent—
slowly laden with Scents
of Footprints
from wild Curiosities—
who educate Themselves
in the Where—
gradually solidifying Enjoyment
in shar’d Territories
by Human and Beast

Vows

Arm in Arm
thy Bridal Sails
Favor of Winds and Seas

and smiling Suns
that Lovers and Friends
Themselves might keep
beyond Dusk of Eternity

Saloon Magician

with a Hat full of Spirits—
th’ Eyes and Ears
of th’ Ups and Downs
either from Man’s Heart
or from Tilapia’s Tongue—
He is the Memory of the Day
till even beyond Last Call

Epoch

so futuristic
this Now—
so long ago
until a Century’s Guise I don —
and hopefully
in hope have Faith still
That be true
That Tomorrow