SEXTUS

She appeared as a summery sun ray,
In clouded overcast,
And I did notice her smile,
And I did notice her magic.

Like the rolling brook,
In secret whispers of nature,
She seeped into my soul,
Deep, like a recluse furrow.

Adjacent lay the shadow-dapped wood,
Where the Hemlock children dance in summer,
And the waves of blossomed air
Flow like a sweet thick ocean.

Heracleum, the goddess of summer,
She lures the poets and painters,
Losing their ways and minds,
Shaded retreat to rot into.

Where most are lost and clueless
To the magic that unravels the
Glistening edges of Time’s Tapestry,
All sacred and ancient, and deep within us.

Her eyes of blue morning haze,
Muse-like and beautiful,
They capture my mind and
Mind the gap, for devils be there!

Obtrude, obelisk, oblong verse,
Varying patterns that shine upon
The ripples of our river,
That flows strong and leads to the far future.

Of haze, in morning mindly melt,
As the sun rises in sexualality,
No room for xenophobes here,
For we are the children of the green.

A remnant of History’s long tale,
Pages turning within the summer breeze,
Laying as we are, by the stream,
The sun bakes the ground hard.

The trees are green, and as I watch
The ripples of the stream
As my mind melts under the sun,
Like wax, like lust,
And the mighty truncated verse of our very beings…

She appeared as a summery sun ray,
In clouded overcastedness,
And I did notice her smile,
And I did notice her magic.

Time-locked and without prayers
We are all that we can be bothered with,
Heroes, thieves, trustees, loners and the mentalities,
Be us here, tread soft where we do, and…


(19th July 2015 - For S. M. C.)