The Secret Stream

there are faeries in this brook
who hold my desires under key
so when my pleasures float downstream
the thoughts which build them you can’t see
they keep them safe until the day
I reveal myself to thee
and hold their tongues on my behalf
while I debate what is to be
with each soft dream I dream of you
inner secrets I compel
to the wee folk in the stream
lock them away and do not tell.

Lost Truths

what sweet seasons these were in my youth
that sparked all promised dawns under the sun
and held no cynicism above the truths
which spring denies until the winter comes
for all the cold days held in my marked years
have withered absolutes as does the frost
in killing roses with the dew’s first tears
until the blooms of our beliefs are lost.