whispers

There are whispers in a motion that comes from deep within
where choices stifle voices that notion beside a sin
there is betrayal of the self that bides its heart of shelf
and bids its owner bitter as the mystic of an elf
There are lies and indisgressions that fail to teach their lessons
as judgment passed its vapid verdent verdict over life's concessions.
there is heartlessness and pain that bathes us in its rain
as we journey on a path that guides our souls in vane.

Recompense is nil

My love flows without question or request,
My words move freely, hate them or refuse to take them, they will always be what they are;
Droplets hidden in the pattern of rain on the rivers of time.
My words will always be briefly mine that I release into a universe of eternity shining like the stars on the far side of a horizon you'll never transect until you feel yourself swimming in these silent somnolent sentiments glimmering in the darkness and light of an ocean of my words. They will always be trickling over every one in my life with respect and admiration for your companionship friendship and love.

satelllites and sentiments

What somnolent recompense drives the sea to lie beneath a winds caress
driving ripples across these desert plains into distress
piercing the soul like a needles incision
injecting the inky loneliness until it flows into places I'd rather not know.

chasing sordid dreams, not mine, to behold
leaves me aching from tales that are yet to be told.

pretty vs beauty

Pretty was the thing that looked but rarely pondered
listed on the scenery while the beauty of a glorious mind had wandered
into places and spaces only demons and fairy's could stay
seeing clouds pass through hours till dusk diminished the day
where dreams are all around us becoming of our hearts
no brighter is the sun nor darker its shadows from these arts
where feelings and ambitions slay faulty superstitions
and angels dare love and then leave us with lucid visions.
It shown like the sun from within, its brilliance casting shadows off my soul
to divide these perceptions into merged recollections
and blend them together as whole.

on companionship and pet ownership

Companionship is a gift not to be taken lightly
for even the wildest hound chooses its keep in mind
where all actions are factions of choice and hope
the only difference is in what that hope implies
implicit or explicit matters not until this daydream dies
in the perception that there was nothing to purvey
but a lone ambition with nothing left to say.

Trust is sacrosanct and bound
to every interaction found,
T'is the same of every man and hound.

beginning in the end

There are times I want to see it burn
from sea to sky in turn
ending at that stained saltire
bearing more than your sincere desire
to reap what had been sewn
with proprietors in places where nothing can be owned.