Tides Of Autumn Poem by Joseph Narusiewicz

Archers of the lubricous night
she aims at the purple stars
pigeons march in spiritual spirals
evening is ripe with hedged moonlight
I am protected by angels
I know you peer at my harbor

Green is coming into my morning
you are like a glass of mystery
please don't tell me too much
love needs a vague muse
I hear the sea in your soft wind
night has such subtle hair

Orchids of violet valleys
golden cornfields sigh like serpents
deception never happens on the quiet meadow
you bring bells of joy
I hear them on the island cove
we sleep together in mossy dreams

The tides of autumn fade into the bells