He stood upon the cliffs awaiting the sunrise
Watching as the last of the moon descended
Anticipating the light meeting the sea
Listening to the waves kissing the shore.
As the tips of light began to reflect
He saw her on the rocks below
Sable hair embracing her shoulders
Skin so pale against the sea washed rocks
He watched as she finger combed her tresses
Humming softly to the morn
A siren song to warm and greet him
Watching, yearning, wanting more.
She must have felt his eyes upon her
Green met fawn linking sea and sky
Caressing, calling, passions rising
Heart beats crashing with the tides
Both knew magic in their souls
Part man, part hawk he spread his wings
On gentle currents down he drifted,
Softly landing on the shore.
But soul mates they could never be
For she was not his kind
Through eyes that glistened with briny tears
She bidden him good life and goodbye
For her world was not of air and sun
Her world was wet and blue
She donned her skin and swam away
As selkie maidens do.
Sentries of the night stand guard in perfect formation
Across the stretch of wire, like clothespins on a line
While speckled flocks of grackle stain the landscape
Spots of black against a field of brown.
As if on cue, they choreographic their flight
Up and down, like waves at low tide
Just a ripple before they settle
Bobbing to a minuet as old as time.
Chatter of excitement as they discuss the day’s events
Children too excited to sleep, too restless to stay still
Something moves, and the sentries cry out a warning,
Taking flight, the sea bursts forth into the sky
Absorbing the last strands of light
They take flight across the shallow riverbed.
Reflections of black specks against the setting rays of sun
Up towards the back wash of brilliant pinks and yellows
Shards of cerulean attempting to hold back the sapphire night
A finger-painting of bleeding hues
Streaked across a mat from a single orange focal point.
A stroke of madness in a painting of harmony.
Night’s orchestra tunes up for tomorrows concert
They return at dawn to greet the day
Renewing once again the sonnet of the night
And the circle resumes.
*Photo from Clip art by Microsoft
In the vastest of the eastern landscape,
A ball of orange rises
Bathing sands of time in its brilliant hue.
Where Egyptian pharaohs
With their ladies danced
Building monuments that far outlived them.
Camels walk, where brave men venture
Religions as old as the ground they tread
Shifting sands with unaltered beliefs.
Time rolls across the dunes
Altering life and destinations
Buried stories, deep beneath its crust.
Daylight holds back the twilight
Like a petulant child
Not wanting to go to bed.
Earth’s nightlight glows at dusk
Sunset ebbs and flows colors
Casting a quilt of tranquility.
Clouds of blueberry line the skyline
Laced caps of receding light
Nature exhales as the child falls asleep.