The Hourglass
At the edge of desert shore
Poured out of an hourglass
...
It was a sunlit autumn, dying
Foliage was not raked for days,
Bark was gnawn at, soup was tasteless,
Scarecrows had been lumbered away
...
Bookends almost adjoining, now
For all that's not of florid inditement,
Are words unwritten sulphurously
...
The Hourglass And The Clepsydra
The Hourglass
At the edge of desert shore
Poured out of an hourglass
Would, I gladly, swoon to embrace
Such reveries that lie beneath,
A plashless mirror, shattered
The Clepsydra I
In versicoloured creatures' light
Are sunken castles, vitrified
Turtle Islands, appear from under
Leviathan bottles, have ships inside
Perdu plunder's interred in sand
The Clepsydra II
With aqua pura, ichorous now,
A celestial river laving me:
I clasp on ignes fatui,
Lounge upon a crescent moon,
View an ultra-violet sunset
Wow what a powerful poem you have written the imagery is truly heart felt well done