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[DieterM]

Sometimes
I feel the ocean in my head,
Feel waves sloshing in,
Foam-crowned dreams
Breaking on the shores
Of my finitude,
And I long to build castles
Upon black clouds,
To sleep on Eastern winds,
To feast on the fragile plinks
And plunks of rain harps
While a thin orange line
Explodes on the horizon

(couldn't think of a title for this one; if you come up with a nice one, I'd love to read your thoughts)

[virtuoso]

Hi, Dieter! I think that "Stenciled Streams" would be a nice title. The dreamy pattern of the aqua marine environment is stamped on your brain. I like this poem better than the previous, two posts. The other, two were fine poems, but this little mental-mapping medley turned my fantasy wheel. I guess to each his own.

[DieterM]

Hey virtuoso, I am glad you liked it! Inspiration has been fickle lately, and time rare, so I'm grateful for all those who bear with my humble lines. And if one poem out of three is to your taste, I'm really satisfied (they never are to mine, or hardly ever…) Oh, and I love the title! May I use it if one day I include this poem in yet another unsellable and unselling poetry collection of mine? Thanks anyway!

[Delta40]

I think the start is almost like an approach to the poem itself as it is somewhat cliched.

Then it begins to explore the elements. This is the heart of the poem and the key for an interesting read.

[Lykren]

Very nice! Finitude is a wonderful word here :)