Sophrosyne

Dear Peace,
I have seen you weave a forest complete
And lay so many down to eternally sleep,
I have heard your voice weeping for a friend
As another generation comes to an end.
How hard it must be to drift upon an answer
Within the undisciplined action of eruptions absurd,
All I can do is blow you a kiss or two, and a wish
All could never be lost if we all did this.
Your redamancy for the world is on the cusp
Wind speaks in susurrus to your wanderlust,
Oceans have calmed to your commotion-less song
As you wave after wave continuing on.
I have heard you in the psalms of my dreams
Within velvety cravings of possible things,
Seek your kingdom of stronghold and wellness
That dwells in the heart of lasting kindness!
Myth*.
© 2013-2018 Myth (All rights reserved)

Francesca: The Free One

She grew on us like ivy, 
Exposing corners of unimaginable displays of dreams!
She took us through anything is possible, then anything goes.
She took us to a place of meadowland grace
 To lay in tall grass exuberance!
We closed our eyes and dreamt far away from severance.
Francesca, our dream,
She was pleasuring dying flowers from sunlit beams.
She drifted across dreaming to our feathers in the wind …
There,where alabaster skies of purity locked us in.
Oh how could we know
That this dream would end?
Francesca, with a scent of blarney, blarney cometh.
With her we could be ourselves!
Never wanting to be, anyone else!
Who could be us anyway?
Who would never come!?
She had the ability to linger our credibility.
Francesca, beginner of memories,
Our youth, Our dreams!
When we woke
Days were growing older,
Francesca was seemingly smaller.
Tall grass, less taller.
We rubbed our eyes,
Sprinting and squinting toward Francesca.
Fog was rolling in
We ran back to the dying flowers
But they were all gone, gone!
There was no pleasure in that.
We kept going further back
When there, in the misty rain
We saw our dream’s now spent.
We were all cornered with Francesca
Blarney scented Francesca,
Where we so often, willingly went.
Myth*.
© 2013-2018 fairytalesbymyth (All rights reserved)
Thank you so very much for reading my poems.
Be safe in the world!

Troubadoura,

Tethered to men
Mistress of dreams, may sleep begin ..
Yonder tales, yonder wails, down yonder mind bend
Where love pounds a heart, where love has always been.
Whisk in, chanted voice, thus faraway wind
Echo all their tears away, whole heartedly, within
Sleep can hold such tenderness, and very needed grin
Brand a dream, to warm a day, upon cold, cold skin.
Summoned thru silky midnight skies, whence come
Woman from scented flower realm, Dream Blossom
Thence like curtains lightly blow, feelings from
Thoughts, wishes, desires, becoming one,
In dream light warmth, quivering echoes
Branding has begun.
Troubadoura.
Written with Stevie Nicks in mind.
Myth*.
© 2013-2018 Myth (All rights reserved)