How the porpoise was drawn into the seas

holding a pace seeming stationary

and, bagged on a shelf in a store of years,

who would believe: love is perfected yet.

Moon-proud a sillhouette over our seas-

a second sight at the antipodes-

curving like the rainbow before she fades

just as never was: love is perfected yet.

Read and leave comments (2)

There is light at the end of the tunnel
and it is light these eyes were made to see.
My self I have imagined, reflected
in countless frames busy with wild designs 
to my left                                            and right,
likeness after likeness for company.
Portrait of the times each step of the way
shadow caught astrals, they reach out, would speak.
How many would change their...

Read and leave comments (2)