Unfathomable depths of grey green seas.
Laughter that tries to dye yellow sorrow blue.
Never a sigh that escapes, but I become Panacea.
Never the fall shall come, always an Atlas.
Cathedrals ,rivers, ancient windows and old true lives
Boats, rivers, many many lights, doors to new true lives
A curving of imaginary lines for new rivers in a new world
A glorious rule that bestows favoured grace.
Green wine bottles and a stolen moon
Violins plead for the bow to touch the strings
A profusion of harmony or a discordant riot?
A net of time that bleeds.
The Blackbird Chirps 