lace

Pine trees that lace the ridges
of snowblest mountaintops
lean against the darkened moon,
like storms that lean on precious earth
with open arms towards the sky;
lightning touches myriad stars
that wander through unbroken songs
and quietly fill hollow dawns…

T. E. Pyrus

daybreak

melting crystal waters flow
and sting with gentle ghosts of snow.
in fresh and blue-lit summer, shy,
o’er softened stones and shimmering sky,
pebbles, black and white and grey
mild as night and dark as day.
sunlight parts the mist again
and ripples with lost songs of rain.

T. E. Pyrus

Listen, hold your breath –

Can you hear faint rustling
of pen sketched words who wander
across new paper, sneaking
in between the pages when soft breeze
flutters in soft silence,
peeking underneath the lines
of rich creme paper, and gazing in awe
at words that dance with elegant grace,
timid commas tiptoe, slow,
and spiral ’round the hasty dots
into dizzy tales of mystic dreams.
Sometimes, they wake and watch the stars,
and listen to their wistful songs
of time like ’twere the fervent sea;
starry waves that sing to moons,
of storms and love and laughter, free,
drawing in lone, wandering souls
who know and listen quietly.
Listen, hold your breath, stay still,
to shy bells, clear and tinkling,
when soft wind turns the secret page
and stars pour into poetry,
infinite loops trace whispered words
with life and magic, endlessly…

T. E. Pyrus

like a painting in the sky…

Sometimes I watch the nighttime chase
the painted sun across the sky,
and rest upon the purple trail
of sprightly moons that flurried by,

while sunset birds carve glowing sounds
of windy calm on coral clouds,
and stars of dusk bring violet, coarse,
to softly blend into dark.

constellations wake the sky
and stir still wind and mist and trees
with precious dreams of morning light
and lilting song and laughing breeze.

T. E. Pyrus

whispered songs

the vague whispers of the changing wind
sometimes pause –

then break into a hearty song
of red leaves softly rustling,
and bubbling laughter skipping over
stepping stones across the stream,
the closing of the oven door
and cinnamon and pumpkin pie,
and crackling in the fireplace,
quilts and blankets, lullabies,
and darker nights and halloween,
ghosts of christmas, trick or treat,
dreams to live and days to love,
family and friends to meet

– and quietens to a steady stream
of whispered songs of quieter things…

T. E. Pyrus

another side of midnight

The moon arose unflinchingly
upon the stormy sky.
Little drops of starry light,
misty songs of faery knight
and snowcloud maidens’ sigh
wander over field and lawn,
meadow gates they swing upon,
and leave soft laughter by.
They rest upon a bed of hay
until the wistful break of day,
and ’til then, shimmering lie…

T. E. Pyrus

Traveller,

Tell me a story, traveller,

of unwalked roads you walked alone
beneath the blue and sunlit sky,
paved with earth or cobblestone
and straying clouds that wander by.

of strange lands and stranger folks
and strange songs they sang with you,
in strange tongues they call their home,
that, in your dreams, was somewhere new.

of temporary loves you loved,
then set your broken lovers free,
and healed your broken, heartless soul
beneath the starry sky and sea.

of darkened woods and foreign sound
that haunt the night-time every night.
of moons that follow footsteps quiet
and stars that watch in silent light.

of stormy nights and thunderclouds
that failed to bring your childish fears,
and drowning rain that drowned the winds
and brought you melancholic tears.

of snowy golden sunsets high
on mountain sides, ragged and old
and tears of wonder, tears of joy,
love of stories left untold.

of rivers running swiftly by
your resting sleep ere break of day.
of twilights that blanket the sky
and sweep the orange clouds away.

of lost lanterns and memories
and aimless wandering in the night.
of faraway towns of scattered starry
homes so warm and hearts so bright.

of lone camp-fires’ dancing songs
and lonely faded quiet applause.
of longing and of selfish pain,
of losing love and loving loss.

Tell me a story, traveller,
of reminiscing in grateful shade,
and of your final travel home
before your loving memories fade.

T. E. Pyrus

A Lovers Lie – A Sonnet

Golden leaves dance gracefully
In gentle silver breeze.
The whispers in the trees
Sing like sailors’ songs at sea.
And there, beneath the twinkling star
You danced like silver dew
Then, in my heart I knew
That twilight lovers never scar.
The precious dream you left behind,
I loved with all that’s true
Like every lover loves their lie.
And every moment floating by
My broken heart loved you
Like mountain Latmos loved the sky.

T. E. Pyrus