Twilight Teeming

Away, a lure long cast and climbing, down
and drowning, dear and dusking, downward bound
enshrouded, webbed and clouded, robed, with crown
of crimson downing, throned, with violet 'round
at sunset's sounding, hung, against the soft
oleander lining, calm, Creation's brush
has picked and painting, placed,displayed aloft
the twilight teeming, torn, aflame and flush;
Toward cradled home, the sun climbs burning back.

The window, far and facing, curtain, drawn
and lacing, braiding, sapphire silk with black
and weavings eastward hanging; Silent spawn,
the starry stream, aflow cascading, bright,
with chards parading, full; the dawn of night.

Van Gogh

What Van Gogh watched, and wept, and dreampt with blue
and stormy eyes agape, and gazing drew;

Abroad, agleam upon his canvas white,
abound, enshrouded in that cloudless night,
the lucid stars, the mingling many rush-
a sterling rush in midnight's moonlight hush,
aloft and leaping, loosed and laced along
the ink and ceiling's brink, a threaded throng
of constellations caught and counted, kept
alive by painters, poets- those who slept
or sailed upon the shore, the sea, below
the spangled sky; O' sorrowed, sweet Van Gogh.

As once he watched, the moon half sunken sail,
I glimpse the starry, vast and gilded veil.

Road

Majestic Sun! To soft your sea-strung trail,
your pearl-paved pathway, porcelin pedaled, laced
and gilded gold, I set my silken sail.
Below the Morning Star, before its traced
and tranquil home, it lapping lights the way.

Ahead, astern, upon the cyan sea,
begining broad, it far and narrow lay.

Between the sterling sail- a blooming Tree
of Life, amidst a lifeless land forlorn-
My faulted faith, like you full burns ablaze!
Redeemed, aflame, like you I rise reborn.
O' Dayspring drip, and drench my guided gaze.

In distant days, my sail shall set on each,
Upon your road, its great and golden reach.

Mingling Masts

Amidst the dawning, blushed and summer stained,
upon the ocean water's western reach-
A-sail, ashimmer, wind wrought roamed
a clear and crestless crowd of mingled masts.

Like needles, steeples stabbing upward soft,
each firm and fair against the wild breeze.
They pierce the sea, its many summoned swells,
and even break, the pure and pleasent sky!

Yet calm they stand; Blissful kindly calm
they kiss the cloudless, blue and waking morn.

Like Redwoods reaching, timbered tall and proud,
adorned in satin, dripping winter white
and whispering warm upon the wayward wind-
In splendid glory, each did awe demand.

Their might unmatched, yet humble, mighty so!
They countless stand, a crowd afar and near,
adrift- of bow and stern, and silken sail.
So humble yet, ascending stiking strong.