Rubies are on my mind
as falling leaves dress ochre meadows and strips the trees
so too in crystal wonder mulch my search asunder.
With hearted hunt in each mirage I front
neither here or there I find;
still - still Rubies are on my mind.
The fireball stings
flinging rays that carom and flicker in the daze
a vermilion sun did rebound and end to one
I bask and burn with yearning I churn,
that one be won, and sings.
'Tis just a hush, a wistful rush of willowy swings.
The euphoria of Ruby stone;
a dreamers' spell for a shadowy shell,
now a prism or a silhouette of crimson,
to borrow and redeem each reflective beam
until I, at last in clasp and moan
caress each carat and dye of claret, in that Ruby, Ruby stone.
Take me from that blinding abode,
to where alike the sea, swells mingle in spree
and hearts not seek the diamonds that leak,
the aromatic musk ruling the mortal husk,
I fear it made the trade I sewed
when sought and bought, with guile and goad.