The Dreamer Paints
with wide eyes every dawn i wake
when the morning wind beckons
and blows open my doors
it takes me hand in hand and walk
side by side through new doors
shows dreams sweeter than before
because i’m a forever daydreamer
wrapped tightly in sweet memories
i fly around new cloud castles
my friend the wind is my redeemer
it tells me new stories
secrets passed only lips to ears
opens every vestige of my mind
it wakes my ever sleepy muse
sets up an easel i never refuse
makes me work on a blank canvas
to paint my ethereal visions
guided by my magical brush
my muse now awake and smiling
she sends me colors in the wind
sealed with a silent kiss
Fragile People
do you know why
we hold our wine in glass
transparent and open to see
while we sip gracefully
so we will admire the crimson liquid
the sweet blood we drained
from our mother the earth
her blood our wine we are blessed
why do we plant our flowers
in houses of glassy make
let grapevines do the embrace of lovers
open for all to see
so everyone will admire the love
written in every petal and embrace
so we can see the wildest of nature
thrive in our ever changing world
do we ever imagine we are glass people
with hearts of glass so fragile
we live in shining glasshouses
flowing open for everyone to see
so we will forever
get open love we ever crave
and handled with the care
fragile things deserve
this is my entry for: The Thursday Think Tank #66 – Glass Houses.
Chained
when sweet darkness gives way
we toil on an endless highway
this land tears apart every day
the flesh of our weary hearts
giving way to a new deception
fakers abound new lies are born
in silence thus strangely adorned
angel wings cry torn and chained
this brazen soil pours oil
we swim in our daily toil
our wings are chained
we are restrained
an open highway we yearn for
in name of humanity to die for
freedom chained to stone
in fire our flesh deeply burns
reminiscence become so deary
please have mercy oh almighty
grant us your holy water
towards salvation let us run away
Equus
a glorified plain in a deep shade of orange
is a spreading valley far beyond the horizon
to a new dawn behind the setting sun
a beaten path leads on to forage
on enchanted valleys far ahead
riding on the path instinct showed
running fast along the beaten road
strength is the scent of the evening tide
which leads the crowd back to rest
echoes on water a predator’s soft ride
scenting for a fresh prey in to a test
waiting for a call from the moon
to know that the pack is on hunt
lead heads rout the crowd soon
before the weak succumbs to the hunt
freedom is the color on the skies
hoofs sound in the flowing water
as they run for shade together
far away from the predator’s reaches
wind flows through their golden mane
the valley is their possession
far from the hunter’s obsession
pride is the gleam in their eyes
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