Millions of our pitiful existences
poured into pages in the cyber-world
we recite our views from mountains
hoping someone will hear
and what they hear will be music
the melody familiar
a song not heard by all
but a select few
whose lives
we were meant to touch.
Broken Dreams
I sit amongst
my broken dreams
its shattered pieces
sparkling in the sun;
fragmented images
of beauty
against the dusty brown
of the earth
illusions of shiny treasures
of silver and gold
gemstones
of garnets and pearls
pirates’ pieces of eight
buried in the ruins
of what we thought
our future destiny
broken dreams
the gods foretold
on rainy nights
when the clouds above
shouted their disdain
on distant horizons
echoing through the darkness
for us to leave this place behind.
But we are dreamers
you and I
and, as the lovers are blind
we are deaf
to the voices of warning,
so blinded by the vision
of what can be
and the sweet smell
of the garden flowers
our senses are overcome
and so, dulled to the warnings
from above.
mountaintop
From up here in the clouds I see
a million miles in front of me
a carpet green from mountain high
a thousand lives just walking by
Upon a cliff there sits a dove
reminds me of my now-lost love
it looks out on the world below
from mountain high that’s tipped in snow
As I peer out from on my perch
I feel as if I’m in a church
the clouds above, the ground below
I sit and watch the river flow
But all this beauty I perceive
just makes me wish that I could leave
and take the hand of my lost love
and make him share the view above.
For somehow, I feel something’s wrong
I think it’s cause he’s not along
I can’t help feel it isn’t right
to not with you, Love, share this sight.
SeaDreams, November, 1998
wings of an angel
I worship you
and all that you stand for.
The ground you walk on
becomes paved with gold
in the wake of
your footsteps.
The air
expelled from your lips
becomes intoxicated with
the sweet scent of
flowers in springtime.
Your touch
is like the gentlest wind;
aye, like being brushed
by the wings of an angel
as it flutters through
the heavens above.
You are
like the air I breathe
the food I eat
your essence serves
as nourishment
to my soul.
coming home
Like distant memories
of a long lost kiss
our lips touch,
with the tingling
of promises once made,
dreams once dreamt;
a sudden knowing
we have found the place
where we belong.
We are home
in the warmth of each other’s arms,
in the glow of one another’s love.
We touch
as if knowing
we were made
for each other’s hands,
as if all our lives we’d waited
for THESE hands
to touch us.
Like breathing a sweet
air of remembrance
on a summer’s day,
the scent of roses
permeates the air,
reminding us
(as if we could forget!)
of the treasures we have found
in the light of one another’s souls.
There is nowhere for me but here, with you.
Nowhere, I’d rather be.
SeaDreams, November, 1998
All written materials on this page © 1997, 1998 SeaDreams. Reprint with permission only.
[Home] [TABLE OF CONTENTS] [My Boudoir]
[My Words-Poems] [From the Heart-Poems 2] [Sad Song-Poems 3]
[Tears-Poems 4] [Sunset-Poems 5] [Longings-Poems 6]
[Desolation-Poems 7] [Promises-Poems 8] [Silent Whispers-Poems 9]
[Reflections-Poems X] [Realm of the Paradox-Poems XI]
[BLACKNESS-Poems XII] Dust [in the Wind]-Poems XIII [Peter]-Poems XIV
[The Rainforest] [Sunshine, Daydream] [Sea’s Links]
[Grateful Dead] [People HELP!] [gods?]
[Last Stand]
Sign Sea's Log View Sea's Log View the old Log
check out the posters at allwall.com!
