to warm our hearts
and ope thy clouds
with splendent rain
to awaken dreams
of such Friendhood
of Love
of Harmony
that we might ne’er know
thy dusk
from the bugles of despair
towards that sparkle
in the spire of time
oh! to feel the warm voices
of angels
on the wings of a Miracle
her love of color
mutating either side
to her swank appeal
to marveling eyes
but only one
Dragon of Good Fortune
rising
where rainbows prism peaks
of clashing cascades
stretching thru the unseen
towards the distant
smile of the Sun
to buss Lower Heaven
and clasp their spirits
as Bouquet of Southern Sea
her own shadow
her own reflection
her own light
to follow
whose last cinder of breath
will fall into dream
o’er brink of the World
a caravan
of seemingly diverse chatter
but spellbinding
to our sanity
with wondrous reverie
be the fog
thicker
the sidewalks
more uneven
our thoughts
often lost in thought
yet whenever I feel
the lifelines
of thy fragile hand
with mine
‘tis yesterday’s light
I behold
in that fairest of faces
who listen
to th’ eyes below
who speak
sometimes in moody wisps
sometimes in tears
till as ghosts
under the blue breath of Day
or the chandeliers of Night
they sleep
my raiment to shed
myself to slumber
to hibernate
to muse
of the wonderscape
outside my dream cave
till on my brow
comes knocking
the breath of Spring
we’ll see
or not
