on a broken mirror
memories begin to fade
as soon as born
leaving behind just
of what they
once had been
she falls lightly on my lips
each kiss instilled with promise
an elemental recipe as old as time
I open myself to her quenching embrace
and taste life.
the pine trees sing a sombre song
their ballad draws the fog to lay
from times when just the wind had sung
forgotten mists of yesterday
before a single bird took flight
and stirred those lowered tones
before the undergrowth knew life
when just the trees sang all alone.
oh! nature, hast thou changed thy face
for time has played its wicked hand
whereby once youth was fast in place
the aged ocean’s swept over sand
from days long past I thought eternal
my mortal frame will ne’er be saved
this debt for which was presumed vernal
becomes forthcoming by the grave
so to accept the years will sigh
as they tread with practised guile
across my footpath by and by,
and meet them gladly after a while.
For I, like all men, have my hours
as do the birds, the trees and flowers.
A demon’s fire ring in the forest
as these passioned stories told
sensations heightened in the flames
only the devil’s fingers hold
midsummer air dry stokes the fires
soon the woods themselves ablaze
and the madness in crescendo
seems it could the whole world raze.