easyeverett
02-22-2009, 05:50 PM
My thoughts profound in shadows hide
as silence now screams loud the sound
of children caught so deep inside
the vortex of those things not found.
The air is filled with fragrance fine
yet pale night chill portends the fall
when poets trade their verse in time,
to wait upon the public's call.
When courage comes defeating fear
the matters of the moment yield.
Succumbing to each salted tear
will only bring more pain concealed.
With speedwe sail the soaring sea,
in boats we brought to float away
then catch the breeze that blows us free
to sail back north to old Cathay,
where ladies love to walk the street
with rainbow parasols in hand,
then take a peek, discerned discreet,
at sailors sifting silver sand.
Remember days so bawdy bold,
when sleek saloons would serve strong rum,
and tales were told by sailor's old,
of far-off golden days to come.
The past now forged in storied times;
profound the sound ofharmony!
And poet's practice perfect rhymes
for futures fused with history.
Unchain the vision of your sight
by clearing out your cluttered mind
and worry not 'bout wrong or right -
that burden lies with fools to find.
An esoteric memory,
when colors clash in crystal air,
to capture perfect clarity
for those who fall within despair.
Just what their life entailed back then,
is fascinating fodder for,
a real excursion, made with pen,
that adds more layers to the lore.
O dreams of esoteric times
when poet kings did rule the lands,
while prophet's spoke in singing rhymes
and danced till dawn to minstrel bands.
as silence now screams loud the sound
of children caught so deep inside
the vortex of those things not found.
The air is filled with fragrance fine
yet pale night chill portends the fall
when poets trade their verse in time,
to wait upon the public's call.
When courage comes defeating fear
the matters of the moment yield.
Succumbing to each salted tear
will only bring more pain concealed.
With speedwe sail the soaring sea,
in boats we brought to float away
then catch the breeze that blows us free
to sail back north to old Cathay,
where ladies love to walk the street
with rainbow parasols in hand,
then take a peek, discerned discreet,
at sailors sifting silver sand.
Remember days so bawdy bold,
when sleek saloons would serve strong rum,
and tales were told by sailor's old,
of far-off golden days to come.
The past now forged in storied times;
profound the sound ofharmony!
And poet's practice perfect rhymes
for futures fused with history.
Unchain the vision of your sight
by clearing out your cluttered mind
and worry not 'bout wrong or right -
that burden lies with fools to find.
An esoteric memory,
when colors clash in crystal air,
to capture perfect clarity
for those who fall within despair.
Just what their life entailed back then,
is fascinating fodder for,
a real excursion, made with pen,
that adds more layers to the lore.
O dreams of esoteric times
when poet kings did rule the lands,
while prophet's spoke in singing rhymes
and danced till dawn to minstrel bands.