Clarity in Muddied Waters

A Messianic Journey Through Pen and Peace. Writing from the Stillness Within.

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She was a phantom of delight When first she gleam’d upon my sight; A lovely apparition, sent To be a moment’s ornament; Her eyes as stars of twilight fair; Like twilight’s, too, her dusky hair; But all things else about her drawn From Maytime and the cheerful dawn; A dancing shape, an image gay, To haunt, to startle, and waylay.

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  • If I were to…

    If I were to say it I might stumble upon my words But if I wrote it I would fear it’s immortality

  • Floral stars- Haiku

    Held up high by stalks, Edges ruffled like dress hems, Our own floral stars.

  • What- Haiku

    What does she look at, When her face is glazed over? For she is not here.

  • Moon Dancers

    They only ever came out at night, Pearlescent faces tilted towards the shadowed sky. Running on the water, they danced in patternless patterns, Cream gowns rippling around their ankles. Their feet were bare, stepping across the sea as if it were ground, Mouths set, Eyes smiling. They would prance without tiring; Maidens of the night,…

  • What the light did

    The sun blurred her sight, It turned her lashes into glowing stars. Her hair was transformed into a halo Speckled with darkness. Her eyes consumed the sunlight, Mimicking stained glass and amber sugar shards. Her snow coloured sweater grew an aura of its own, that could be mistook for angel wings if you squinted. The…