welcome to the aviary . . . .
The Dreamer
walking in silence
surrounded
chill blue
still water
a pool in the forest
eyes open
diaphonous light raises me
a child born into this new clear world
I have been sleeping here
dreaming into eternity
I see
or is it seeming?
this soul
lost long in dreaming
the still of the night
the deafening calm?
bright dew drops on my skin
the good earth beneath my feet
What can all this mean?
this excitment running through me
Is it the last dream?
Love's Spirit
When thy exsistance has been cold,
the wall is built of strong stone to keep it out,
So when the warmth comes and one heart is sold,
It only makes the cold more fierce,
and biting when it dies.
Love is the light,
the unfeeling void, darkness
I forever walk the path into
eternal gray
I see my love
so gentle
touched only by beauty
I love completely
each strand of black hair that touches the neck
the fine hands that are capable of all things
so delicate
yet I am a shadow before those crystal eyes
a ghost that may only envy
the world those eyes touch upon
for it enters those eyes to which the soul reflects
more deeply than even my love
So now truly a ghost have I made me
that the music of my soul may bring
sweet tidings to the spirit
within my sweet love
the only one that can hear me now.
To One in Paradise
(title borrowed from E.A.Poe)
Lost so long ago
To one in paradise
I'm sorry
Your parting so sudden it stung
Oh, to the one that died and
died so young.
Please you said,
a pic nic by the garden
Then you crossed the way
one last rose to bring me
quickly ran, yet never heard the train.
No one understands, they hate you for my pain
Poor child, what have I done?
Angels greet thee now in the blessed land
I see you lying so still with one last white rose
in your hand
You called me your winter rose,
Those that scorned our love and said it wouldn't last
They were right that is why I live in the past
where I can still be with you
Love will not be killed, even in death
To one in paradise
You called me your own angel, forever to keep.
Did you know?
You asked if you could have my heart
And you keep it still
Now, and always you will
Untill we meet again in a place where there is no darkness
To one in paradise . . . . . . . I love you.
*In memory of Brenden Key
In The Eye of the Beholder
The beauty
standing there
with rosed cheek
and flowing hair
seeming calm
though war within rages
conciet is its balm
Not seeing the ages
It does not see them
It will not
for beauty is only conscious of itself
though it battles
for beauty only is as it can be seen
then it must give of itself
let it be taken by the eye
to be known it must submit
so on it goes through time
never to be known
for this is beauty only in seeming
only in its own paradox dreaming.....
