Time like a windmill
ever turning lifts our dreams
then blows them away
#haiku, #dreams, #time
For you:
Christmas joy
….That never ends
….Good Health
….Good Friends
#Christmasgreeting, #joy, #Christmas
Candlelight and strange old tales
wove long ago fantastic dreams
of phantom ships with silver sails
for one who followed poets’ trails
through realms of glowing silver streams,
candlelight and strange old tales
of wanderings and holy grails.
The years were filled with starbright beams
of phantom ships with silver sails.
Memory through time prevails,
heartholds apart from mundane schemes
candlelight and strange old tales.
Through life’s dark hours and stormy gales
come sailing back to me, it seems,
phantom ships with silver sails.
The magic dream that never fails
to bring me joy: remembered gleams
of candlelight and strange old tales
of phantom ships with silver sails.
#ships, #sails, #tales, #wanderings, #phantomships, #dreams
We sliced the skies with roaring rocket knives
And came to dream beside these slumbrous seas
Of planets beyond, beyond the Pleiades.
We tethered time to tame our tide-race lives
And shot our ships toward black-night waves of suns
And comets. Ah! We forgot the limitations.
For now in strangered exile do we weep;
Thoughtless, pointless, nothing is our sleep;
No thundering, sudden season storms exist;
No turbulent tides mercurial moons resist;
No raging rivers plunder and thrust and slip
Down mountains of ice and bitter fire-laden frost;
No angled lightning’s angry cracking whip
Surrounds us, and Oh, oh, the uncounted cost!
We stale and spoil and rust; we sicken and yearn,
A sorrowing race, for loved lost Annapurna.
#spaceexploration, #lossofhabitat, #habitatdestruction, #displacement,
#Annapurna, #December8, #Pretendtobeatimetravelerday
It seeps through like a fog
In sweeps of color
And swirls the room
My heart stirs
But only for a moment
Because then it is gone
Like the fog vanishing
Like myself
Like the fog
gone
#dream, #disappearing
there is a storehouse of delight
billion-globed in the night:
a treasure there but for the finding
a knowing how to reach the site
#treasure
Nighttime
Fragrance
Gardens, old, forgotten, sweet…
And strolling ghostly feet.
Dreams
Wandering
Cool alleys of shadow trees…
Thoughts of mist
And, somewhere, memories
Songs
Melodies
Music that has ceased to be…
Sorrow and sadness
And dying ecstasy.
(The Letter Not Sent)
I cannot hope to see you now.
We have parted all too soon.
More than friends, we made a vow.
I cannot hope to see you now.
Our time, so short, would but allow
a dream, a song, one sunlit noon.
Oh…we have parted all too soon.
Run, Run
Into the holes
Run, Run
Into the sewers
Into the ground
Away from natural sound
Golden sunlight
Run, Run
Into the holes
Run to the Rodent Reality
With gypsy dreams
The wild heart turns
And visions fair of the almost things
A beauty rare to a dull mind brings:
With fairy tread
And careless head
I stroll high roads the mountain round
Where far below the sea waves sound.
No simple place
No normal face
But strange, fantastic haunts I know
Where pixies glow and weird winds do blow
As darkness falls
On giant walls
From the heights my drugged eyes look down
At dream dimmed lights of sylvan town