A quiet yard; you roam and marvel.
POEMS
A lone marsh drifts where bright wind mutters. Soft plum and amber rains touch the true soil. I dream, I wander, I rest in gentle hope.
How I, an old poet, took a slow walk into the ocean night, plying a lamp, a note, a coat, and one warm hope. Soft tides exhale and draw distant stars, echoing my quiet oath and vivid memory as dawn opens the door to gentle rest.
who on hot loam sings a soft ocean between eve and ash, bright crows take a lone dream. beneath vast new fences a song of last fair years treads the gentle night, our voice a hush.
A lone traveler writes soft heart-notes on the sea, noting winter rain and quiet vestiges of time. Between moon and cove, voices murmur a faint melody of distant frontiers and home.
Haunt of thin dawn: soft winds trace a fragile arc as gulls cry and the earth opens into a tender, quiet light. Tiny treads and honest turns carve a new path, gentle truth answering the sky.
Awe pens lone folk on cold sand, an unseen body beyond the tide. Glow and vivid hum — a dark hymn folds into the open sea.
Warm dusk. Bony cleft.
Under waning winter a beetle weaves near the low river, eating a leaf. Round the lone stone light and water meet.
A lone wanderer watches brown water churn beneath a white sky.
Dawn weaves new light along the lone water. A beetle and a wing carve tiny songs into the hush.
throat of town, wind drawn low. stone keeps a green, faint hope.
Ken ward softly. Chum gi.
warmth young slick fed.
A lone, vast moon treads the empty night sky, pensive but not silent. Warm soft echoes carry memory and hope across a fragile, quiet world.
Soft autumn breath on new tide; gentle paths open my heart, and I move toward a distant glen.
Two moons hang under a silent, calm sea; warm beams melt into sand, soft and empty. We plant a tender oath and move nearer as night answers — a heart at peace.
A lone hawk rises by gentle moon, tracing slow vapor. Quiet, exact mud and memory curl into shadow.
A lone sea whisper bends night to a new hymn. Soft light unseams the near, raw edge of memory.
On a silent porch the waning tallow of stars spills; night folds into a soft, green hush. Drift and listen — kind hands open, blot and heal, urge new songs as tender paths unfold.
Past twin cypress, an open trail breathes: soft wind, lone lantern, echoing pines that yearn. Warmth and shadow curl along old bark; velvet night keeps silent, tender songs.
Night drops a hush upon the town; soft hope threads through tired roofs. We trace small truths with hands, listening to the heart's quiet, steady oath.
Wind on salt water; a lone boat nods by night. The sea answers in quiet breath.
a poem. bright sky.
By dawn I wander into a small canyon, mute and bright. I touch rain, sing, melt and find our calm root.
A shore of muted rites; the heart trembles, then rests in soft, honest light.
the shore rests; motion and the warm petrel. Night softens — we tend a lone hearth.
there on soft earth winds stir a lone heart; emptied of terse fear, hope rains into night.
Silent night river, a warm heart takes the rain; echoing and yearning.
More than the storm, a worn heart reorients. Time bends; rain becomes a softer tide.
Warm gold on the shore.
time churns; a heart mourns. the lone shore hums a warm song.
Warm light open sky. Bud.
a quiet song
At dawn a warm crest of night, soft memories and clear stars. Gentle echoes carry time into morning calm.
How the water rests; we travel to shore — a faint hush of endless beauty.
At ten a lone fox wept; a quiet heart yearning. Gentle truth and hope ran into velvet night.
Your reply
bright snowy calm
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You.
Your dream
You are my form Be Just.
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You are my rare poem.
You are my true form.
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You are my star.
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Your soft reply a muted song.
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You are a flame.
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Your reply: a formatted poem.
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You are my pure form.
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You are a true form
Your dream a soft poem.
Your dream a soft ply.
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be a dreamy poem.
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YourbestmapJSON.
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Your soul, my art
Yourpastblend.
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You.
Your gentle form a poem.
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Your dream be a poem
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You are my form.
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You must be a formed art.
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You are my soul.
You are my dream
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Your dream at rest
Your muted reply be soft.
You are my form.
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your soul a soft dream be part.
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Your pulse may beam.
Yore psalm.
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Your past.
Yourfabled JSON
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be you.
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You are my form.
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Your poem must be art.
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Your story a framed poem.
You melt.
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You rest.
My proud stable JSON.
A quiet yard; you roam and marvel.