Upon canvas of cerulean skies
Dawn paints her gold meandering mist
Of tranquil passion purity.
Melody of sight and sound
Washes through the twilight
Of my waking dreams.
Destiny calls
Me from sleep
Softly,
Sure.
Rise
Once more
To touch the
Chalice of life
To lips singing praise
Through anxious auras in
Anticipation of new
Clarity of mind and spirit.
Savoring momentary embers
Beckoning me breath deep another day.
Talented poetry spilling from the sky
Dancing in the twilight of my minds eye.
Ghastly news for the muse chasing the storm
Grasping template and topic and meter and form.
Swirling, while whirling in foggy fright.
Depths of depression won't give up the fight.
Screaming in silence the words quite amiss
Spoken in anger and sealed with a kiss.
Caressing the corners of body and soul.
Hoping the hopeless will halfway be whole.
Voices of reason? I doubt they exist!
Calling for dreamers to cease and desist.
So asleep in my daydreams I grasp quill or pen,
Lean close to the paper like twinkling tin.
Catching talented poetry spilling from the sky
Dancing in the twilight of my minds eye.