Walk

Walk on the sands,
With dreams undecided;
Mind that understands,
A reason that's divided.
Feelings of freedom,
Inside every shell;
When night's infinitum,
Into winter's spell.

Flowing of the tides,
With clouds going by;
Summer feelings asides,
Far from bird's eye.
Wintry's blowing blow,
Frost in the coldness;
Icy glowingly glow,
Always new and fresh.

Walk on by the dreams,
Realities and stars;
Faraway now all seems,
Some glisten isobars.
Flowers on a window,
Frosty and white;
Outside cold to grow,
More into dim night.

There is a Dream that Comes

There is a dream that comes,
In like the new rose;
With the leaves of cerebrums,
When you hold it up close.
From treats of its flower,
Half open to the eyes;
Fragrance and willpower,
To realities disguise.

Never rooted to the ground,
Each stem it gives;
Only in dreams it's found,
And within it - it lives.
The book of my song,
On clouds that drift by;
All and each I long,
Like amplitude of the sky.

There's a dream that's there,
With pages to write;
Of stories we may share,
If they are within eyesight.
A book of each belonging,
Bread of life it's too;
Ways might be absconding,
Never seen clearly through.

Without Moving

Without moving to anywhere,
Sweetness comes like a gift;
Sharing joy here and there,
Inspirational sight uplift.
The pleasures in the waves,
Bolts of blood and sky;
What's hidden in conclaves,
And the moments beautify.

Like the ocean in autumn,
And shells that go on shore;
The past is desideratum,
Without knowing what it's for.
It comes in steps return,
Close and sometimes twisted;
From it we must then learn,
For why it is so persisted.

Without moving we'll find,
What's touched time's breast;
Today's the roadway blind,
And to near futures the least.
Waterfall and the blooming,
In what your heart might sing;
The times are now resuming,
Before there comes new spring.

Remember

Remember the dreams we had,
From yesteryears summer mood;
Rays from some colors we add,
That from our morning allude.
Initials of the deep earth wear,
Jagged with waves and rivers;
Blue dress of summer fanfare,
What the fresh streams delivers.

All that in memory forever is,
Like horizon pictures in the afar;
That glows but is lost like a wish,
The falling dim wintry way star.
Wild of the pummeled sands,
Footsteps that gave forth again;
What the feelings understands,
No one can search but in vain.

Remember the gust that grows,
Above every root that breaths;
Morn without name that shows,
All variations and its shibboleths.
Earth in its sound and silence,
Thoughts of your love and share;
All of your dearest acquaintance,
That no one else is to compare.

Night Time

Night time I welcome you,
With dark from door to door;
Reborn shadows or the new,
All that is drifting here ashore.
Name of those still unborn,
Sparkling mirror like a glass;
Souls of shores wet and torn,
Living repeatedly life's bypass.

Each beaten guest of decipher,
Immortal lights of stars shine;
Those that are raw or yeastier,
Between the others and asinine.
Wallflowers that never will be,
Broken every minute this death;
Who kills innocent illegitimately,
Mothers in black their breath.

Night time grass in the morning,
Things of things without names;
The dreams each of my yearning,
Twilight of dawn broken flames.
Those that are in somber park,
Hurrying before springs of time;
Songs of the autumn dying lark,
All those rosebuds in life's rime.