Monday, August 20, 2012


Stay here for a moment in the essence that you see
and stray that vision henceforth from convictions of what be.
now let that gaze,
the mind and eyes,
become the world you now surmise
and catch your features laden with the motives that embellish this...
...distractions of abstractions
this absurdly toyed with muse
this beset, once able, now not but fabled, sense of what you'd lose.
and ruse, oh the rush
to lead astray and clutch and thrust,
to lust, then trust,
while seething alterations must
unleash, bequeath,
that narrow sense of who'd we'd find
yet time and mind together mend
the sense of death which we depend.


  1. When leaves are shorn from bough by cold
    Winter winds ablow
    And cedar shows the latent scope of snow
    And horses shiver
    Moonbeams quiver
    Beneath rough blankets of frost
    Find me
    Find my troth