Wednesday, 22 August 2012




Atop the bright and airy peak,
a skylark sings resplendence,
for all who come, and all who seek,
her sweet clear notes, 'transcendence'.


The moonflower dazzles with its sparkling refrain,
damp light hovers over sleepy waters held within;
Who is to know the depth of this somnolent pull,
sitting atop cool waters of wishes and dreams.

'Not I' whispered the moon,
shining her silent path in remedy,
for all those sun kissed sparks of ingenuity,
flaming within the hearth, redolent ease before the fire,
an orange glow beneath the shadow of the moontree.

I heard a single bird sweetly upon a bough,
sink into indolent remembrance, a melodious trill,
soft as honey in a late summers sun, smooth and yellow,
overcome by the tincture of dampened joy.
Blue notes, falling like downy feathers upon the ground.

Soft, she bathes her hair in the still waters of his eyes,
a reminiscence of deep sighs in bygone seas,
serene waters reflect the silent passage of a dream,
in gentle harmony, to please, in slow time to dance
upon the waters lip, two souls sip, concordantly.

Sweet bird, have you not heard the moons sad lament,
an echo upon a passive tide, serenading the spheres,
the melody of starlight playing upon a moistened mirror.
The sweeping breath of time,
caught between the longing in those tears,
her doleful mourning and the risen hope.

Does the earth fall from grace,
or replace her silver night,
in that first ray of golden light?
The shrouded gown shimmering in valediction.
Or does the heralds triumphal joy,
turn the tide once more, to dance upon new shores,
to recrudesce from forgetfulness into remembrance,
embracing all in progress, a journey into acceptance.


A rhapsody swims within a sunlit kiss,
her boughs full grace to swoon;
Children play beneath the fruiting trees,
born into day from out that moon.

© Richard Michael Parker 2012