Chartreuse mountains of clouded fountains
where the purple ship sails horizon bound.
Fitting seas for the gentle solar breezes;
the forgotten found there sleeping sound.
Adrift through your days in a splintered haze;
stolen within the dreams of a mindless patter.
Seeking revenge for life’s unforgiving ways;
enchanting breath bestowed by your master.
The ship steers clean and handles so well,
from beyond a tangerine tempest batters;
off in the distance witness the ringing bell
leaving us stifled, wounded and shattered.
Lashed to the rail, driving a breaching whale
into waterless streams of steamy icy mists.
The mind doesn’t care, or perhaps won’t dare,
to revive and decree the injustice or bliss.
I can’t feel the pain through disheartened disdain;
exploring my path while dishonoring all wrath.
I seek a reprieve to a maddened soulless reign;
a lost purple fantasy or wandering psychopath.
© Ken Allan Dronsfield
Excerpt from the…
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