Wings of gossamer
caress blushing rose petals...
My shadow starts a walk with me
with the help of moonlight...
Snow
Scent of crisp air...
By the river a tide is forming,
bathing souls of a wild flower...
I whispered a vow to the sky
of breezes sprinkled in Jasmine...
I stop and listen often,
to crinkling leaves of grace...
Blue Midnight,
captures stardust - sleepwalking...
"Are these really blackberries?"
"Ones covering the ground...
Draught in the Desert
Spring came early here...
This day, Winter sat upon the land,
Its bloodless knife sitting in its open hand...
Across tangerine horizon,
as dawn stirs remnant mignight hues...
We went where we always go -
the place where the telephone lines shoot...