Between The Images

In a time where a day will stand on still
Upon the ways of the edges grown in
And dreams shall come in its real to fulfill
Between the images of dawn's new spin

The soul of flowers in the stretched out shade
In shadows rising and the twinkling on
Where every moment’s faithfully made
Till dreams and thoughts are to sideways gone

Ah flower fair in the street ways of time
Giving its splendor and tincture so true
Where the flow of tides are in their prime
And always coming to shore for renew
Days and nights we can hardly understand
Giving its revealing and fresh command

Life on Lives Rising

The days are back here with their great stories
All the ends ending in a coming bright
Through glory of shines and half-shaded light
This comes onward in to their glories
Right from the reaching of stony old world
Those give only handhold's of provincial's day
That turns around the page of aspiring play
From the amaze of the city's circling burled

Waking up to fire of young minds to go
Seeking their turn to find out and to try
What they are willing to handle with and know
When bent on for glory and each its high
Becoming final to whom they will bound
Like life on lives rising coming around

Love Is a Dream

Here we go once more in a beautiful day
Steadfastly on with the dawn's new light
Everything’s glowing in summer's special way
Through the endless time from the night
Love is a hope in its eternal of a dream
Recalling feelings from the misty far on
Where hours are lying in endless esteem
With every passing we thought were gone

Love is a dream that we miss
Always in the returning of fall
Long gone footsteps and a lost kiss
Those we once more then recall

The Night Has Come

The night has come like a fallen goodness
Into flickering shadows glowing on
Through a dark that carries what is now gone
To the terrain of times own process
The flowers were taken in bouquets pale
To fill in the moments of driven day
In the heart of significance war's play
Like the footsteps on going to their lost trail

Every like flow of a burning cry
To stillness liberated understanding
Greeting the farewells and asking why
What it is worth these causes commanding
Now fallen like flowers to autumn´s age
Without further reverie in laden stage

Flow Rivers

Flow rivers of going time
Into the desire of forgotten brook
Those written are into life's book
In life of its many a prime

The moments to conquer and live
In the grace of its gratifying
What every prospect is trying
And from every its page to give

The bending of roads coming
And changing the fields overhead
That easily to occasion is read
What every its portion summing

Life Is So Much Playing

Life is so much playing
With everything it has
Of its out and in saying
What it is and what it was
Feeling always something
What it didn't know before
Of every way it’s keeping
And use to open each door

Life is always trying
Making right from wrong
Every lose knot tying
To make it again strong
Finding one and alone
Life’s sometimes struggling
In its fashion and tone
With its difference juggling

Life is what it makes
Twinkling thoughts awaken
In its gives and takes
And their maintains making
Entered through and perfect
Making shows and trying
Every of its many aspect
That more or less is sighing

Cast In the Instills Of Time

Bring me some flowers from rain
Those were wasted to the earth
Everything comes within pain
If it has been tried out in worth

Cast in the instills of time
Displaying the reviewing of gales
Coming to growth in its prime
Everything within instance sails

Morning is stirring the blossoms
With every steam and new leaf
Withering roots knots of its sums
Through every hour so brief

The time is a center of motion
That silted below the grass
The stream of the tangling potion
A mirror of time's shattered glass

Pushing the framework of living
Clawing the dreams going by
So much to the framework giving
Just like those thoughts that fly

The silhouettes are in the sun
With pink flowers red from the nape
As the colors wither and run
To make their red brown yellow strap

Daydreaming waiting the shadows
With every curves of backwards still
Morning comes dark in its glows
In every instances and thrill

Like razors edges of the horizon
Outlining the blood red enigmas fire
And moving its pace steady on
To give us new autumn's desire

Yesterday's curvier backwards clutching
Into the deprecate of tides waste
Everything with dark woe touching
From its coming new season's own taste

Enters the lagging of forest's row
And filling the moments with stillness
Now in its memories timeless flow
Where steps become withering chillness

Corridor of the tide's flowing chart
Changing its mood in its observing
Flowing eternally on in the depart
With every withering leaf curving