My thoughts profound in shadows hide
as silence now screams loud the sound
of children caught quite deep inside
the vortex of all things not found.
The air is filled with fragrance fine
yet pale night chill portends a fall
when poets trade each verse and line
to satisfy the public's call.
When courage comes defeating fear
the matters of the moment yield;
succumbing to each salted tear
revealing pain too long concealed.
With speed we sail the soaring sea,
in boats we brought to float away
then catch the breeze that blows us free
to sail back north to old Cathay,
where ladies love to walk the street
with rainbow parasols in hand,
then take a peek, discerned discreet,
at sailors sifting silver sand.
Remember days so bawdy bold,
when sleek saloons would serve their rum,
as tales were told by sailor's old,
of far-off future days to come.
The past now forged in future times;
profound the sound of harmony!
And poet's practice perfect rhymes
of future's fused with history.
Unchain the vision of your sight
by clearing out your cluttered mind
and worry not 'bout wrong or right -
that burden falls on fools to find.
An esoteric memory,
as colors clash in crystal air,
will capture perfect clarity
for all who fall within despair.
Just what their life entailed back then
is fascinating fodder for
a real excursion, made with pen,
that adds more layers to this lore.
O dreams of ancient, amber times
when poet kings did rule the lands
while prophet's spoke in singing rhymes
and danced till dawn to minstrel bands.