Orb Romance

cool-pic-of-spaceThe sun arose before the dawn
The morning of his day of rest,
With rays a-trim and beams a-shorn
He donned himself his Sunday’s best;

The astral aura fringed his crown
And cloudy frills bedecked his vest,
With trousers wrought of misty down,
His coat–a braided, cobalt crest;

And up he shone in dark of night
His wake a golden vaporous trace,
While off a-far stars twinkled bright
Below the world in sleeps embrace;

Into the heaven’s vaults serene
Beyond translucent silver billows,
That parted to reveal Selene
Reclined across her argent pillows;

And oh how radiantly he shone
To see her pale complexion flush
With love’s white heat reflected from
His ardent passion’s burning rush!

Then all around the Milky Way
Resounding o’er ethereal seas,
Celestial strings began to play
The waltz of Fate and Destiny,

And all night’s creatures awed to see
Their star a-waltzing with his queen
Go dancing ’round the galaxy
Enraptured in their lover’s dream

As hand-in-hand they twirled and swayed
In Gaia’s ballroom of the night,
Reciprocating hearts portrayed
The joys of sharing love’s delight;

‘Till in his luminosity
That passion’s bent his soul enkindled,
Like a tide gone out to sea,
Night receded, starlight dwindled;

‘The eastern skies turned fringed with light,
A draft churned mist in valley’s deep,
As birdsong broke the spell of night
And cocks crowed from the rooftops steep;

Then dawn broke o’er the world below
And Gaia sighed delightedly,
To see those love-struck orbs a-go
A-waltzing off beyond the sea.

Advertisements

Ship of Dreams

Ship of Dreams

No sailors muse ought tarry on the stars
When cast upon life’s ocean deep and far,
Though caged in sextant’s gauge the star he sees,
His guide amid those treacherous stormy seas;

Yet when those stars revealed through shrouds of dark
Cast misty spells of slumber on my barque,
Then Hypnos comes upon the waves of night
To take me to the land of sleep’s delight;

To ship at anchor on eternal shore,
A mighty craft of refuge from the storm,
The steady hand of Morpheus at her helm,
To navigate her safely through his realm;

Tall masts of sloom to harness winds of whims,
Unfurled imagination’s canvas brims;
Exotic currents of capricious flight
Now speed my ship of dreams into the night;

To realms devoid of sorrow and attrition,
Where fronds of peace alleviate contrition
And children’s laughter brings the soul’s respite,
Exulting in the freedom of the night;

And further on, beyond a mortal dream,
Where isles of gods in paradise I glean,
Unto a sky-bound river of desire
That burns with torrid waves of passion’s fire

Wherein do surge a billion sparkling gems
Of hopes and prayers ascending godly realms,
To reach the throne in Destiny’s great hall,
Upon who’s ears those whispered yearnings fall;

And anchored all around that estuary
The masts of ten-score Ships of Hope I see,
All bearing wishes from a hundred worlds,
That pour o’er gunnel’s rail in wispered swirls;

Wherein the winds abate and sails fall fallow
And anchor drops to grapple sandy shallow,
And hatches breached reveal her brimming hold
Filled deep with priceless treasures to unload;

And O’ such precious plunders do I bring!
Trite jewels of pleading souls in suffering,
That in their darkest hour of despair,
From Destiny seek peace in ardent prayer;

And raw do those stones burn with tortured pleas
That bring my hardy sailors to their knees,
Who send those gems of suffering with their tears
To race that river’s flow to godly ears;

And when the final wretched gem is borne upon that stream,
And all the tears of every soul upon that ship of dreams
Are mingled with sweet offerings that float unto the queen,
A ghostly stillness then descend upon that spectral scene;
And I can feel infinity raining down upon my heart,
Yet through the storm I see what joys in rain she does impart;

For stars of love descend in wisps of gold,
That shower answered prayers for those poor souls
O’er empty ships where silent hope endures
To carry dreams come true to mortal shores;

And when my ship with pity’s booty reels
And mercy’s golden wisps do fill her keel,
With anchor hauled and sail unfurled anew,
We plow again night’s seas of darkest blue;

‘Cross astral waves of endless time and space,
Poseidon’s chariot guiding schooner’s chase,
Till gray approaches through receding night,
Revealing shores of day in dawn’s first light;

And now my worthy spectral oarsmen haul,
To bring my lovely ship close in to shore,
And rest at anchor in the Bay of Day
Across mortality’s threshold does she lay;

And in the silent birth of that new morn,
Released those answered prayers on winds are borne
To fall through slumber’s mist upon the meek,
Souls blessed to wake and mercy’s harvest reap;

Sailors of ethereal oceans
Nomads on a sea of notions
Tides of night are now abated
Slumber’s oarsmen rest elated;

Mind awaken, spirit rise,
Morning’s beauty fill these eyes,
Ears awash with nature’s din,
Airs of life caress this skin;

Debark the ship of sleeps delight
Now harbored in the land of light,
And disembark her mortal crew
To tread the solid ground anew;

And face again that worldly storm
With soul restored and worries shorn,
Hold fast that course in tempests wind
Till evening does the squall rescind;

And when you can resist no more
Your soul lets out that stifled caw,
Then turn about on buckled knees
To look for gold in wisps of breeze;

And when another mortal day is done,
And Nyx’s dark domain usurps the sun,
Return again to that eternal shore,
To sail the mighty ship of dreams once more.

Porcelain Story

Porcelain Story

Written for my daughter Miriam and inspired by her first alarm-clock–a little porcelain girl below a clock in an apple-tree, and her piggy bank (which was always empty!).

 

Beside a big old Apple tree
Within a pleasant dell,
There was a tiny house wherein
A piggy-bank did dwell;

And when that piggy-bank walked out
One fine bright sunny morn,
He saw a little porcelain girl
Pick flowers on the lawn;

In hat and blouse and shoes of pink
And pants of pastel blue,
She strolled amidst the clover trailing
Footprints in the dew;

With skin of polished ivory
As white as falling snow,
Her braided golden-ivy locks
O’er slender shoulders flowed;

And ocean-pools of deepest blue
That paled the morning sky,
Where dreams beyond the rainbow’s end
Behind those eyes did lie;

And as the piggy-bank approached
That China figurine,
He stopped and stared to see her lips
Of ripest cherry sheen;

For on those lips a simple smile
Of greeting there did glow,
While in her tiny china hand
A daisy did she hold;

“Do you have dreams?” her voice intoned
A kiss upon his ear,
Like stardust falling through the mist
Yet ringing true and clear;

Forlorn the piggy-bank did pause
And turn toward the sky,
“I do,” He whispered with a sigh
And yearning in his eye;

“I dream of hidden treasures lying
Buried in my hull,
I dream of being satisfied
I dream of being full”;

“I dream of being opened-up
To shouts of joy and glee,
Of happy children running to
The candy store with me”;

“Of spending all my hoarded jewels
On Mothers Day’s surprise,
And seeing well-loved mother with
A teardrop in her eye”;

“But I am just a piggy-bank,
An empty vault of clay,
And I can only dream upon
That happy rainy day”;

“For many are the rainy days
That I’ve seen come and go,
But ne’er a silver shilling for
To line those clouds with gold”;

“And vainly does the needy soul
Seek charity in me,
For empty do I e’er remain
A dry and lifeless sea”.

And through a sudden mistiness
That in his eyes did gleam,
He saw a porcelain teardrop fall
That from blue eyes did stream;

“Oh dearest little china girl
I beg you not to mourn,
For I will gladly empty be
To see your sorrows shorn!”

“O’ piggy-bank you’re wise and good
My sorrow’s for we two,
For I am lost and all alone
My life is empty too”;

“For I was made by loving hands
To love the march of time,
And care for my beloved clock
That in this apple chimed”;

“And as the roots of this old tree
Grow deep in to the ground,
So was the love by which my dearest
Clock to me was bound”;

“But then one gray and fateful day
A dreadful thunder cloud,
Did see me from the sky above
And in love’s spell was bound”;

“Impassioned he did beckon me
But I refused to go,
And in his rage a lighting bolt
Of fury he did throw”;

“And struck my dear beloved clock
A mortal sundering blow!
So now I have no time to love
And I must love lone;”

And as her heart at last became
Unburdened from her pain,
She turned her tear-swept eyes upon
The piggy-bank again;

“Oh piggy-bank why do we bide
Where torments never stop,
You with your sad emptiness
And I with none to love?”

“For I was made to give my love
And you were made to take,
Let’s put the past to rest and seek
For happiness in fate”;

“Stay with me now and I will fill
Your emptiness with love,
And both of us shall be fulfilled
Our purpose from above”;

And so forever they remained
A happy porcelain pair,
A piggy-bank filled to the brim,
A doll with love to spare;

And in that tiny house that stands
Beside the tree so old,
There’s ne’er a rainy day who’s cloud’s
Aren’t lined with streaks of gold.