HAYLEE

Poem no. 20, 28th February 2025

A six-point sight to behold, wondrous and bold,

Squares of wheat awaken at the dawn of gold,

Saffron moods dangle on the brink of day,

While the silent heart in deep reflection does stray—

“Haylee, be mine, my grace,” it softly does enfold.

The colors of the sea in freedom trace,

And green-bellied dragons in wild song embrace

They toss and twist ‘midst freckles of pure white

While the old farmboy, with hope alight,

Believes his maiden shall be his grace.

Again, a six-point vision unfolds anew

Shadows transmute to rose-gold dew

Twilight’s pixies lead the maypole’s merry dance

And memories weave dreams in a wistful trance

Bound by a Queen’s love, resplendent and true.

Haylee, immanent, dances through the hours,

Crafting life’s precious gleam with gentle powers

Within the silence of her ever-pulsing heart

Ancient echoes and newborn dreams artfully part

Her eternal dance an ode where love and time flowers.

GOD SAVE ME