Sonnet of Daybreak

The hour is like the morn light that comes so fine,
And gives its splendor and hope in each one;
When new is the time and minutes in sun,
Path with the first footsteps that onward shine.
Breaking up in the colors and to combine,
Clearance and the shades that never are done;
Everything that gives and goes when its gone,
When last of the gleaming dies with the line.

Now lay a rest for the evening to come,
The night will be dancing in wind and dreams,
And give breath away to more darker mold;
Until again freshness awakens a bloom,
And new thought emerges in downhill streams,
Everything of light no darkness can hold.

Sonnet, My Love Song to The Dark

My love song to the dark and dim night mood,
Which time divides into the two rivers;
The food of the slipping reason prelude,
Expose of the dream that sleep delivers.

The drop of an instant moment soon gone,
Flowing of episodes - the incidents now;
What takes away the hour present here on,
Transparent time shape of forgetting plough.

The yesterday that is no more to come,
Or be a sprout of tomorrow's new ways;
Pebble in the web of erstwhile fathom,
That night besides the fire - that not long stays.

Freed from loss are anamnesis that grow,
And give away sparkle future - with flow.

Sonnet, The Night is so Many Faced

The night is so many faced and lonely,
With things that lie hidden to coming day;
All the flowers of dark grow there only,
Spectrums from the colors red to the gray.

The rays of the light so vast as it is,
Handful of earth and what under there lies;
Where dreams of the days come in like new bliss,
Open up to the hidden fantasy skies.

Shades of the burning delights of dim rays,
Nocturnal skin multiplying twilight,
Constellations extinguished through dark things;

Each what in moods and the dreams interplays,
Giving the soul between secrets of the night,
Fires and love songs each eternally brings.

Sonnet, The Breeze in The Air

The breeze in the air like the falling dawn,
Silent prowl through the hours that are now gone;
Each moment that from the day is withdrawn,
Flaring of the sunbeams in its cabochon.

Colors and the weavings of those fabrics,
Galloping light tenderness sweetly feel;
Wander of the shadows in their amix,
Blueness beyond clear sky early appeal.

Days without end in enchants forever,
Giving dazzling restless morning light through,
Filling the sky with rays of the newborn;

All what is gone - to be again, never,
Only the incessant shades of dim blue,
From the roots of twilight's falling forlorn.

Sonnet, Remember

Remember the leaping down river stream,
Flowing of cold water to the ocean;
Silent and the shadows trembled light beam,
Weaving forward motion - its erosion.

Each magical moment's foam-covered stone,
The indelible fragrance of sea flowers;
The wandering ways of being all alone,
With wave billows twisting for hours and hours.

The dreams of deep away and almost lost,
World of the sea by the darkness ajar,
Each cut of the sighted broken torn heart;

A flow that is never in time exhaust,
In move and beat from the near and afar,
Abysmal of bracing the breast of the swart.

Sonnet, Each Way is Like a Step

Each way is like a step in many directions,
Passage ways to the days that have gone by;
Contentment shattered glass the reflections,
All the drifting peaceful clouds of the sky.

In this endless motions turning on curves,
Birth of new dawn in the wetness of dew;
Wild in nature with its hidden nerves,
Coming of the tidings booms of anew.

The pace by pace in the newest finding,
Today and tomorrow in its tenderness,
Paths to starry meanings in the dark blue;

All in all what to reality's abounding,
Eager to come again in new meaning fresh,
Giving of its fortune each new impromptu.

Sonnet, Love's a Feeling

Love's a feeling that everywhere should go,
Burn on like the stars in fiery dark skies;
Flower of waiting - surely must some time know,
Everything there is because truth has no lies.

Love in the heart is like song of the moods,
Measure for each measure so deeply with root;
Takes nothing because of it's high altitudes,
Just like a bird or a tree with it's breadfruit.

Passions of much hidden meaning as well,
The heart that is throbbing and still awaiting:
With a key you can't see or even touch;

Each part and realm the future can't foretell,
Nothing in there is made of reason debating:
Only what you give yourself - and as much.

Time Will Take These Thoughts

Time will take these thoughts and giddy play,
And all that is of today's memory;
For night comes new about to this old day,
And shall be in the past like stars are free.
Like the break of dawn born fresly and new,
It leads us to the past that one misses;
Like the morn that lightens up our eyes blue,
All forgotten springtime and early wishes.
Our love so sweet to give and from it learn,
How the moments divide intants or two;
With fire of fresh that has come in to burn,
Between fancyful and the one that's true.
If what's of love has been said here in vain,
Return then it must like burden's refrain.

The Absolute Always With Its Slightest Twist

Each day is young and not much involved,
In much to do and before spreading out;
Those ways that become clearly loved,
To explain reason in each wandered doubt.
To burn on bridges that other there might,
And how to digress their awful distress;
For each is a way aloft in the light,
That comes again in new eager bareness.
The wish and take of each new attention,
Unseen though and decided to be seized;
Through spreading out with the reprehension,
That every way before had there unpleased.
The absolute always with its slightest twist,
Often more in there - you surely have missed.