John Boyle

I walk each day...After time ~ Mid a trance..
Whilst each tiny snowflake...Is drawn upon....
By the fountain of breath....From northern grace...
Knocking on the doors...Of the winters swan...
All abreast ~ The skirting of the season....
Softly laid..Upon the cradle of the clock...
A damsels voice....Mid the warm milky sun..
Dazzling the lanterns and the path they walk..
O guide ~ The enthusiasm am...

Yea!...I have seen beyond the moon and the stars..
Unfathomed....Amidst their fairyland dust.....
Whereat shimmering eyes ~ Lay 'neath the scars...
Tugging at the serpent winds....Undying trust...

Yea I have seen... What thou hast never seen...
A callow crag ~ Hanging from a jointed limb....
Next breasted meadows...And the garden between..
Swallowed by a soft note ~ From shadows dim....