The Aurum and Argentum
Golden and folden are the cards That maketh and shapeth shapeless fates, And harply play our mortal hearts To turn hate to love and love to hate. Silver is spun the silence of sooths, Forsooth that it glimmers so rare, And so parts from our divinations of youth That it’s not truth ‘til there’s white in our hair. Thus call it not an auguration When I my reason so unrope,
Reading time: 0 minutes 41 seconds
Cosmic Conundrum I
The silver moon is no slave to its phases. Between fullness and newness she does not hide. She cares not for her waxing or waning white faces, So long as she may enthrall the wild-blue tide. And a clock does not look at a minute ago, Nor even the moment it’s on. It spends all its life counting the minutes to go, Until all the minutes are gone. And flowerless flora don’t often weep
Reading time: 0 minutes 37 seconds
Among the monoliths of the green expanse, He walked in a silent daze. And it was by chance, by hallowed grace, That he came upon that maze. Beware, beware, for its song enchants, The songs of a broken home. Beware, beware, the green-stroked roads, The enthralling forest Rome. So the winds of change carried melodies, Through the hallowed branches’ reign And the golden veils of long-lost memories Danced like oblivions twirling bane.
Reading time: 0 minutes 26 seconds
As the fields that yield their Spring to Fall We are quick to crawl and slow to walk, And when beckoned on by life’s call, We are slower still to leave our flock. Perhaps it’s not our will or way To keep ourselves the paths we pave, But it’s our fate to never stay, So forge or find a path to brave. Or seek yourself in ruined lots, Be they old or new it matters not.
Reading time: 0 minutes 32 seconds
Cosmic Conundrum II
The Fire of Purpose is the Master of Night, Both Keeper of Day and Kindle of Passion. To stifle the Flame is to smother the Light And bring to an end the Spirit of Action. No blaze is in sight, I’m a King with no Throne, No purpose inside, I’m a Hearth with no Home. Once a Child of Fire, now Son to the Tame, Self-made slave; I am bound by no chain.
Reading time: 0 minutes 39 seconds
The Rain and Snow
The city is raining, raining, Like silver draining from the sky. Not a drop on her skin. She’s got an umbrella, you see Because she’s clever and quick. Who’d want to get rained on? Rain just gets you sick. She’d put down her umbrella If only it were snow. But it’s just rain. And rain hurts when it Splishes, splashes, splatters Against your skin. Or worse still when it gets
Reading time: 0 minutes 46 seconds
No Flowers For Christina Portbell
No Flowers for Christina Portbell That is what they say. But her hair was like not-so-Spanish Moss, And her eyes were like Forget-Me-Nots. But now she is all Red Roses, The sort she didn’t have On Valentine’s Day - the day we saw her last. She was openly an Orchid, But wistfully Wisteria And soft and gentle like a Water Lily, Strong like some Willow Tree. She knew all about the theory
Reading time: 0 minutes 47 seconds
I sat by candlelight and hoped And I hoped by candlelight That its glow may guide me, keep me, From the ceaseless, seizing, night. I’ve known it well and long – the dark, It has been my waking friend. But our friendship has proven farce, I fear it; my heart it rends. The night? the night? I trust it not. I’m not wont to Rest In Peace, It offers me no comfort, dreams…
Reading time: 0 minutes 39 seconds