Ocean of Dreams

The rose dust fell in motes around us

and midst the briars I fell open-limbed

into the well.



The sun loved the moon,

and she in return

shone chastely

into his arms.


From their bosoms poured melted silver

as them embraced in the wintry sky

she clung to his warmth

lusted after his flesh

but he, high and mighty

cast her down.


Now they orbit each other

silent messengers of abstinence

out of reach,



Potentate Hypnos

The broken dusted path is

carved from the tooth of a colossal,

marred by broken gems and wastrel dreams


I ache for some untold harbor

whose moorings are soft as rocking sleep.


In a skiff of eider down,

I drift through adamant waters

to our destined place,

hung with ivory flowers.


Words buzz round your bower like junebugs

you breathe them in your slumber,

coloring their flights,

my potentate Hypnos,

sweet king.