Best Mists Poems

In the hall of clocks and mirrors,
Winds of time bring fragrant whispers,
Of midnights of magic moonlight,
And reflections of past delights!

Of golden days when lost in blooms,
And dancing joy in summer rooms!
A blur of green in woodland scene,
And the purple twilights velveteen.

Time's reversed to infinity,
As ensues...

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I’m feral like a fox
misplaced in the
maroon mists 
of wilderness,
only found in 
woeful woodland. 
My skin is blanketed
in crimson balmy
hyacinth feathers
from a 
forsaken rainforest. 

Misguided on 
delusional paths, 
where spring-tides 
mirror liquified colors
of warm diamond tears 
I’ve suppressed
behind ice blue sighs.

And I’ve seen
splintered petals
beneath thick-leaved
jewel...

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In Whispering Mists, Dying Gods There Grieve

Within Shadows casting forth in blackened glow,
secret havens hide in heaps of aged dust,
there beastly beasts born and wickedly grow
far beneath a granite hardened evil crust.

Within corridors in ancient temples Time waits
for the golden winds of Loves renewed trust
sealed...

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Dawn flings a face
All darkness flees;
Birth of new day

~~~~~~~~~


That Old Man once thought:
"Poetry is not viable..."
Who can eat poems

~~~~~~~~~


In our twilight years
Even time is suspended;
Marionettes know best

~~~~~~~~~


Love is a good excuse
When things go right;
Consider the alternatives

~~~~~~~~~


In my house
I live life brief;
Time excavates my soul

~~~~~~~~~


Haiku soapbox...

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Sisters of nature, gathered hand an hand, 
Finger tip to finger tip, as the goblets
Are filled high, and thus passed 
Amongst one another.
Nymphs of the evergreen wild, celebrating
The springs rebirth, listen to the drumming beat, 
Of seasonal change, it plays in perfect harmony,
With the earth's...

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I gaze at pregnant clouds outside my window
Overcast to match my inner darkness
Wind howls through trees like sadness through my soul
Melancholy mists cloak me in their soft caress.

Raindrops like chandelier prisms
Illusive rainbows reflect off crystal panes
Lazy daydreams of drifting recollections
Water color tapestries of tie dyed...

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Like steam arising from a pot
and floating by this grassy field,
the morning mist concealed the plot.

I could not find the thing I sought
because with mist it was concealed,
like steam arising from a pot.

I tried to find, but I could not;
my sightless eyes by fog were...

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Amidst the mists and coldest frosts,
With naked wrists and darkest souls,
She slams her fists against the bars,
And still she screams she sees the ghosts.

Through summer days and autumn nights,
Through season’s end and blinded sights,
They keep her down and clip her wings,
To mute the lovely song...

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Another day
For self-discovery;
Song bird sings

~~~~~~~~~


Explore the best
In sacred sights;
Mundane world speaks

~~~~~~~~~


One by one
People breeze by;
Silence speaks loud

~~~~~~~~~


Dry goods vendor
Expounds good quality;
I pick my choice

~~~~~~~~~


Lovely damsel strides
Simple harmonic motion;
Some call this sexy

~~~~~~~~~


By this street corner
Busy feet intersect;
Each pounding away

~~~~~~~~~


Newspaper headlines
Ebola and tragedy;
World now waits to see

~~~~~~~~~


Newspaper...

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Gray clouds gathering, distant eyes shrouded;
inner vellum lids cannot disguise
the fugitive from love you are.
Your cherished, throbbing body near,
Far, far away your misplaced mind;
Hesitant words reach out to you,
entangling in a torturous maze
where two hearts stumble in the mists.

August 20, 2014
Faye Lanham Gibson...

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The cold blue waves move gently with the surf
The azure ocean is deep like the soul
The wind murmurs above the ocean
Whistling in gaps of granite rocks it causes commotion

Further north green sea waves
Are in insipid correlation with expressive blue
Of a nearby glacier
But here water is...

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'an empty verse'
and empty hands
~understand~
The glass in hand
can drown out ten- 
thousand and ten;
Hearts, 
~an emptiness~
looking for
?
a 
f
l
o
w
e
r
$ . . . . . .
(Oh, Holy Nights) 
on bend-ed knee
enlightened to see,
Ten Drops from the glass 
 could drown myself, asking for a drink
~ ~ ~...

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'an empty verse'
and empty hands
~understand~
The glass in hand
can drown out ten- 
thousand and ten;
Hearts, 
~an emptiness~
looking for
?
a 
f
l
o
w
e
r
$ . . . . . .
(Oh, Holy Nights) 
on bend-ed knee
enlightened to see,
Ten Drops from the glass 
 could drown myself, asking for a drink
~ ~...

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The Lady knew he lurked but felt no harm or fear
from the knight who watched her from the wood.
His only thought was of the lovely Lady Guinevere,
bethrothed to Arthur, so he knew where he stood.

Young Lancelot, feigning interest, ignored her glance.
Insolent, she though him to...

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Lost in the Mists, Part V and VI
                                  V.
Time was ,when reason...

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