I am the insomnia of cavorting waves
splashing against the dozing shorelines,
their indifference seen in
gaping yawns of serrated jaws,
while the moon has a lonely chardonnay,
amongst disapproving teetotaler stars,
sipping bitter espresso till ughten.
I am the fractured lyrics of autumn,
echoing from parched leafage
in mottled, distorted verbiage,
their rhythm hollow like distant dreams,
of a spring long withered,
while within opaque woods of evergreens
shadows prance to
quixotic melodies of foliage,
on the stage of elusive chiaroscuros.
I am the amnesia of snowflakes,
that powder mountain cracks in soothing talc,
shimmering like gold dust
in rare smiles of winter sunshine,
but trickle down the curves of summer
as a memory trailing down
striations of whimsical reverie,
to lose itself in obscurity of subconscious.
I am the orchid of exotic scents,
scattering verses onto blank sheets of fancy,
with the quill of spring breeze,
bathed in sunbeams, peppered in dew,
like hope braided into life’s sinews,
I twirl my perfumed realms into poetry
to garland life interpretations.
Drenched in rain’s serenades,
and wrapped in wafting scents of humid soil,
I am a vignette rainbow
resplendent in versatility of thought,
reflected on window panes and puddles alike,
my revelations like psalms
chanted to nature in devotion,
as I blend in the pulsations of rivers.