In rolling hills like rotting, crumbling bone,
By flaying skin, the endless forests shorn,
And left to tamed and tailored pasture don,
Which many thousand bleating moths adorn.

The heather look like purple poison sharp,
Across cadaver moors with spongy flesh.
The pall from flames of moor like baleful tarp,
Like waving fur in wind wuthering mesh.

And into putrid blood and open wounds,
Where still so often everything drowns.
As fog like snowy beard on night unwinds,
With hair garrottes that strangle sight from ground.

This twisted grove that I defend alone,
Because this charnel pit is my own home.

As sun warms my shell and melts me a bit,
Like butter in pan before simmer boil,
Beneath the sand, where waves on ankles hit,
The seas unfurl and winds in jocund roil.

The salty zephyr weaves and ducks through hair,
And Gannets croon its songs like off-key bass,
With fall of tides like steps of giants bare,
And feel a thousand pins of tumbled sass.

The children batter broken shells from sea,
To hear it play its crashing, haunting tune,
At red of day, the waves renew their moxie,
Like leaping, hunting dogs in rising moon.

So, I observe the nature's glimmer lurch,
A firefly admiring stars in arch.

The final gasp of fire against the lamp,
The rattle born of crimson filling lungs,
The closing pop of gasp from silent swamp,
The rumbling ice and shrieking crack deep dug.

The lamp's mascara—pretty eyes adorn,
And now another tree in marshland stands,
And somewhere gorgeous baby girl is born,
The ice cap nursing water slips to lands.

The first of sparks beginning forest flames,
The rains of spring lead river spewing flood,
And flames of forest flower cones of pines,
And silt to soil through spring cascade is wed.

Thus, elders to younglings anguish explain,
About the future born from ancient slain.

A voice like hundred whispers spoken loud,
In land of ****** snow as it was sown,
And drifting question it forever bound,
A yew tree seeking home in ice and stone.

In forest grown of golden solid woods,
The channels frozen under ice still hum,
With eerie wails that silence songs of birds,
Through ever present, ever crooning thrum.

The voice of forest cast as mighty tool,
The flowing channels, veins in ****** snow,
The wailing question spreading bitter yule,
The yew and stone in rooted steadfast vow.

Through autumn, ice or nature's anguished blow,
Forever glowing life will always flow.

Like threading mountain path on moonless night,
Or swimming far from shore in harvest moon.
Like bargaining against the fairy might,
Or bray in hinterland at night alone.

Like morning dew licked from mountain pine,
Or running feet on sunny morning beach,
Like wintry nights with fur and sweet mulled wine,
Or snuggled sleep beyond the wakeful reach.

Like knowing death will come to claim loved ones,
Or watching broken dreams turn scrape and dust,
Like liquid joy in life of sandy dunes,
Or taking knife and leaving blood and rust.

And I pen words of peril, ease, and gloom,
So, I could experience them from my room.

Bazaar with many sounds and comely sight,
Where shops of spice and sweets pull crowds along,
While silk and muslin sold are soft and light.
Where jades and jasper bright on tarps belong!

The cocky kings with their coin purses jiggling,
The merchants seeking ways to coin relieve,
While nimble thieves with fingers lingering,
And beggars begging to next day survive.

Here, nights are hotter than days, if you know
the right ways; wares worth gold in hidden lanes.
The host like ants find ways through sand or snow,
Through great bazaar's knotted and busy veins.

There's nothing you won't find in great bazaar,
Its treasures draw great kings to ****** war.

I write to help me and myself, only
then I will have a little relief, when
It kills me to admit that I'm lonely.
That I am alone, even in heaven.

Where I have everything but people
I love, people who are everything.
My choices and their effect still ripple
This is the jail of my own reckoning

I want chance to relive my life again,
To walk the path that I did not take then,
To take the choice that will help me regain
Their trust, their faith, their love, their very pain

I will set everything right even
if I have to leave my hell and heaven.