Monday, August 3, 2009

Serenade - A New Moon

Silver tusk on the tired
shoulder of night . . .

Melody, quivering down the
string on your horns like
restless rivulets from rippling rain-reeds.

Brave harp,
daring the shadow
of clouds - life hanging;
swinging on a dream.

Cascading thoughts,
plump with the visions of night,
moonbeams raising stardust
as the furrows mount the mounds . . .

A bolder strain, yet, sweet lyre
for the sentient seeds;

Break the silence

on the plough . . .

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