carried like a cloud
borne high on the summer winds
love, life, wilderness

I still see your smile in the summer breeze
and the color of your hair in autumn trees
I still hear your voice in the winter sun
and your laughter in springtime rain

I can’t shake off your dream in moonlit skies
where the stars dance like neon lights
and the evergreens shiver in the frigid night
like my heart when I hear your name again

I’ve tried to run from those dark brown eyes,
but they found me in the bark of trees.
I’ve tried to hide from that lavender voice,
but it found me in the song of birds.
I’ve tried to push away that vanilla skin,
but it found me in the ocean’s touch.
I’ve tried to leave it behind,
but she’s all around me, and that-
that’s just too much.

The woods are deep,

silent as the night, and flight
of a hundred and eight mosquitoes at sunset.

Weary light filters through cedar arms,
a slow, soulful embrace that sends
the sighing sun to sleep.

Though the subdued crunch of undergrowth
is the only sound that breaks the ancient quiet,

I still hear your whisper in the shade
which has never ever left my side.

Cgryffene, 2012

he tends to her leaves when they are lush and green,
caresses the knots and imperfections of her skin.

and in the winter, he’ll cut her branches;
watch as he cuts and cuts her down.

little does she know that he breaks his back,
so that she may not break when the winter comes.

I want to fall asleep in the arms of the night sky
be wrapped in the cold of her starry embrace
because though uncaring, she was always there
to give me solace in my times of need

My lady waits in an ocean,
of black vinyl and white Christmas lights.
She is a diamond among a sea of coal;
A silver pendant on the slender neck of the night.
My lady has me so enamoured,
with her porcelain glow tonight,
Some day I’ll write you a proper love song,
One that will keep you till the dawn arrives.

the sun sets on the ocean,
lighting the horizon ablaze;
fire engulfs the empty sky
in a burning violet haze

tiny boats dot the water
searching for a way home.
their sails like flightless doves,
so lost, and so alone.

crescent moon breaks the silence,
an absent lover yet to appear.
marks her tears on the pavement
of rolling sea and atmosphere.

I’m reading a novel whenever I look into your eyes;
I see vast oceans untamed under an oil-slick rainbow of a sunset sky;
I see endless forests erupt from the hungry earth;
I see a story I can’t help but read and read again.

                                               I                                             
                                             feel
                                              life
                   was                  meant                     to be              
                     nothing           more                  than
                        a                 journey            where I
                         could           taste             flight
                            for            every          waking
                            second.     Once        you have
                              known     both        the  
                                blues    of ocean   sky,
                                    you never want
                                       to look back  
                                       I surrender
                                           to the
                                              call
                                               of
                                              the
                                           yearning
                                            horizon 

I am a winter tree
my branches are withered and bare

You found me at midday
to rest your weary wings

At least the spectrum of your tail feathers
give some contrast to the greying sky 

I see a forest around my feet
these trees have no end

moss hangs like overhead curtains
sun scattered into silent streams

emerald sighs through the branches
breaking the quiet of all beneath

clouds streak the ether and ozone
of pale blue sky like residue left
from a dirty brush on a silent canvas

muted in half existence, they
sit somewhere in their cirrocumular
purgatory only to disappear
without a trace

the sun turns a cold shade of pale
November sighs a golden breeze
as the leaves fall one by one
even the trees count the days
till the seasons bring you home

Love is the decadence that blooms on the trees;
     Cherry petals carried by the Spring breeze,
Waft through mid-season air only to land
     Perfectly among the strands of your hair.

Love is the emerald rush of July light
     That cascades through the canopy, and at night
Sighs with the sunset. Still basking in the
     Lingering warmth, we lie lazily in the adjourning shade.

Love is the mosaic of scarlet and gold
     Rolling off aged branches as winter unfolds.
We relive our Spring, dancing in the biting wind,
     Till we fall together and return to the earth again.