Sta.sh
Beyond the halcyon sunset
Lies a vibrant, floral heath,
I often go and sit to rest there,
In its timeless, drowsy sheath,
For the air lends me to musing,
And the sounds goad me to write,
For I am always quite alone there,
Save the birds that twirl and song there,
For I have other kinds of friends there,
In that haven out of sight.
There are colours that resound,
Blues and Reds that sound like Violets,
A sheet of tulips that like sirens
Sing with voices wrought of dreams;
Airborne sheets of vibrant yellows,
From the songbird's whistle spun,
From the wind's breath on the lilies,
From the prelude of the sun,
From the vernal scent of morning,
Whisp'ring white when all is sung.
The shadow there still comes,
Just as often as it should,
The lunar sphere its dark hem weaves
Casting quiet o'er the wood,
Yet is stayed in part by memory,
Safely kept at bay by light,
That nature in her total wisdom
Ruled should ever wait behind,
To shine in leaves, in songs, in memory,
'Til the passing of the night.
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This is a beuatifully descriptive piece with some amazing imagery.
This is certainly describing my garden, as you put it, especially when I'm in an optimistic mood. My mind is always full of strange and wonderful things when I'm happy.