Keys to Thought

Searching ever for all of the keys,
those ones lost and buried in seas,

to the paupers or to the crowns,
the rags to the gold threaded gowns,

cutting the breeze with hoper’s eyes,
up through the twinkling sapphire skies,

reflected from the immense blue sway,
making ghost stars in dead dandelion days,

gaining secrets from the living to graves,
they’ll dance on the crest of the waves,

to bear it all to sink down,
for the sea of my mind to endlessly drown

This entry was posted in Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

Comments are closed.