Night Roses
Night roses dipped in purkinje, tendencies of blue
lost inside this dream I urge the winds to carry me
onto the hammocks of the night where antic roses lie,
moonlit soaked and mulched aside a big blue moon ;
Festoons of flowers strung across the midnight sky
scented florette boutonnieres of Saints and Gods
Angel wraps and gauzy shawls caressing softly stars
lost in a shimmer high above the sea , I am nigh
In exploration I am closing in, onto sweet allay
loosening the strings of yearn for my turtle dove
here in home sweet heaven, timeless as a rune
soaked in purkinje, eternally making room.
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