This little box glows crimson
whenever daylight fades
stinging my eyes
flooding my dreams
of hearts once joined in May.

I set my course to bury this box
entombed it in deepest snow.
Darkness fell
and in my dream
the snow turned crimson gold.

So I went to the sea, to bury this box
funeral torches lit.
As I looked to the sea
crimson tide flowed remit
and carried the box back to me.

This box of memories, mine to keep
its contents, forged in time.
So, when next, I dreamt
I opened the box
and whispered, "forever thine".

      So what does one do
      when all is gone
      when there's no more reason
      to carry on
      when darkness lives
      creeping into our day
      when love is lost
      leaving nothing to say

Silver halo
outlines her body
Sleep of death
masks her face
Life
once beautiful
evades her sight
as sublime dreams consume
lucid sounds
from her past
Life
the empty shell
binding spirit
to worldly flesh
Desires
left strewn
a rose ballet
upon chilled wind
Dark brown earth
wraps around her
The lady dreamt love
till the dream was no more
The lady dreamt hope
till none remained
The lady of dreams
on flowered bed;
sweet remnant
of your touch

      The door opens to all
      Sadden not
      at one’s passing
      Logic and reason in tact
      weighing the score
      Life spent
      day after day
      replaying the one before;
      an endless merry-go-round
      Peace
      found only in dreams
      Mist covered eyes
      raped by morning’s light
      Foul days invading dreams
      and where is the gain?
      Live for the thrill of paltry sums
      spent scurrying to and fro
      for a day or two of rest
      Time to rejuvenate
      then ride the merry-go-round
      again
      In old age
      social insecurity;
      good thing cat food’s cheap
      Diapers and drooling
      bed sore paradise
      life’s treasures
      What is the missing ingredient?
      I don’t remember anymore
      Where did it go?
      I have no idea
      Would I like to stay here longer?
      What for?

Through fields
waving gold
we run barefoot
heartbeats pump
life to the flute
hands clasp
swirls of white
dancing sunbeams
across our faces
silver spun eyes
meet smiling
‘til we all fall down
in amber delight

Hardwood planks creak
under lonely footsteps darkened path
mindless fingers smudging snowflake frost
as hazy eyes reflect starry facets
set in silver-white bisque
earth cleansed
wearing nothing
except her finest diamond cloth 

In dinner attire
ravenous demons
await, dreams
fast running
hazy eyed alleys
faster still
the racing heart
escapes to nowhere
'til night departs.

Gold and satin-white ornaments sparkle wonderment 
to glistening wide eyes
rosy cheeked smiles touching cranberry lips
Pixieland endearment
as tiptoed nighties dance treetop magic
around it's base

Rage walks among us
fuel my fire
hear my ego
beating concrete walls
tormenting the child within
darkened self
revealing pain
long shadows hint
mysterious illumination
where humanities voice lays
waste, against the mortar’s trowel

Ice blue
antique lace
filters the 6 am sun
one ray
waking thickly lashed eyes
revealing flecked gold
onyx jewels
as cherry pie lips
sigh a yawn.
Just moments before
she, the parent
was dreaming of things parents see
caught up in life’s cartoon office
studying you and me.
While I
in my fairy-down playground
run carefree yesteryears
blind to the fact, I am dreaming
of all I intend to be.
One day
a child’s eyes will open
to the sight of maturity
allowing my mind
to open the door
of sand pails by the sea.
A step out of time and places
our paradox worlds to see.

One foot
then another
forward
knowing our fingers
can not reach the past
longing
desiring
mud-sliding
to unrelenting tides
fate prying our grip
from slick rocks.
In the end
oceans drown our folly.

Walk the shore at dawn.
Wings sail
above its linear span.

Explore the woodland cove.
Insects thrive
under mossy decay.

At night, build a fire.
Flames rise
piercing darkness.

Victory
exists
in you.

The air was still
as waves
slowly drummed
rocking a briny crew.
Their minds fell numb
into Lorelei's trance
spun by her wincing elixir.
The crow’s nest
now, a rum-soaked tomb
where bottles roll
side to side;
windpipes mourning
once valiant men
whose sails
mark currents
to nowhere.