At the Beginning of Each New Day

Along the waters edge where sand and ocean meet
The worlds first words are spoken
By the soft and whispering breeze

It speaks of the many kingdoms
and of ageless palaces carved of stone
All the chambers filled with musical laughter far below in the surging sea
The echoing ripples flowing
Splashing playfully upon the distant shores above

Alas the people of the land no longer remember the beauty
Nor can they walk the halls
Time since it has passed deep beneath a sea foam gray

Softly the wind summons back the memory
As the crabs solemnly standing guard lament
And flying high overhead seabirds call out a sullen praise

There at the waters edge where sand and ocean meet

A Drifting Breeze

Leaves fall spiraling dance
Drift alone but in a breeze of chance
Countless colors of yellow and gold
Even the darkest browns becoming bold
The garden rustling with the wonder of where spring fled
Aster and mum sharing their purple and red

Naked and alone in a world grown cold

Where has the buttercup, the iris, and violet gone
Beneath a blanket of earth to sleep as the nights grow long