III
Lain out in harmonious design
Sprawled beneath the wispy swirled clouds,
Bathed in deep, cleansing blue
Life deprived and paralyzed in awe
Until this defining moment,
Lost in the sky, transfixed on the horizon
Orange yellow brush strokes cast from the setting sun
Beckon with hands of gold, and blue behind.
The dreams of peace lend faith to eternity
Hands clasped tightly over heart,
Forbidding the joyous ecstasy exit.
Gripped tightly to re-born memories
Substance clings tightly
To the mind of the dreamer.
Fornication of the wisdom and soul
Spawn wonderfully ignorant naiveté
Hence from young love and truth are sprung,
Like butterflies bouncing across fields
The mature heart awakens filled with love.
Dreams like lonely stars arced across the sky.
Viewed from afar, upon a hill of gold
Poetry in the mind only; the death of a star is still death.
Yet poetry still is the mind’s truest of truths
Dreams, a poet’s children
Spawned from restless creativity
Harbor inner secrets and honest truths….
Lies told in honesty haunt the air
Witches silhouette the night with cold ecstasy.
Time alone in quiet serenity explodes peace.