Sunday, September 13, 2015

Sunken Bridge


The bridge flood and filled 
The moss untilled
The sight of something old
Adding ages to my soul


At Mirrors Edge




The water
The water
The water
Still as glass
Only broken by a fishes kiss
The world shines within
Glistening blue sky
A line of trees
The sun on their leaves
Day and Night portrayed
In one shimmering ricochet

The Fairy

She made her home in a mushroom by the bank of the moat and every morning dived into the glassy waters. She kissed the fishes that rose to greet her and danced on top of lily pads. In the afternoon, she would weave coats of grass and moss to be sold at the Sunday market and when her work was done she would harness a dragonfly and collect dew from the high most trees. In the evening she would hide among the rushes and sing songs with the frogs and crickets till the night was still and as she lay to sleep in her mushroom bed she would watch the moon and think until she with the world feel asleep.