Bryn Williams

North Vancouver, B.C., Canada

The Mysteried Sea At Dusk

Of azure glass and waiting mist --
A sea of peace crystalline --
The drifting clouds that ride the winds uncertain,
Those airs who touch, caress and freeze
The shaking limbs of pensive trees
Now basking the warmth of sun,
Awaiting the fall of night's solemn curtain.

Of all these dreams and memories,
Twilight caught and held by eyes
That reflect the wondrous world
In all its fierce, capricious beauty
But behold naught but its shadows;
Of these pale ghosts and vibrant cousins,
The voice of dusk upon the breeze
Now speaks in jealous praise and soulful lament.
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