Misty white flowers,
Caressed for hours,
By the gentle breeze.

Old places nearly gone,
Their songs have been sung,
Yet something still remains.

Smooth buttercups,
Cushioned in green,
A grassland so serene.

The sound of the trees,
As encouraged by the breeze,
Is enough to give me peace of mind.

These few years have been unkind,
Down this dark road I wind,
But there is yet hope ahead.

The calm in the lines of your face,
Drawing the right place,
Around you.

The sky need not ask why,
All people one day die,
Those clouds just drift on by.

Everything is ever changing,
Always breaking and mending,
If only we were free to feel.


Now in veiled moonlight,
Tinted blue,
Night closes in,
Suddenly slipping.

The trees sway in the wind,
Breathing hollow whispers,
As river and wood meets sand.

The air is still,
The orange moon so wild,
Calm and peace not mild.

Here on the sand,
Blue and orange collide,
Here on the sand,
Speak the beautiful and wise.

I see your eyes in the moon,
Your face in the sea,
And your hair in the stars.

Here I know I have come far,
At peace now,
I have no wish for shooting star.
© Kenny Phoenix