The Island in September.
On the isle a relentless wind comes-a life force.
In search of undiscovered sound
an unknown language and the royal doors of sweet breath
in search of freshly created things.
Swimming in the golden zone
the bells of the forest rang in the mountains
the grey ships rowed in
where the rank of the white gardenias bloomed upon the shore
the sapphire hour was brilliant
the peasants here were noble and royal
a poet played on an elvish harp
in the key of love
the spirit bears,snow lions,elk,unicorns
and dolphins came in from the wild lands
The song forbids victorious deeds to die
to this no star be dark
The world advanced.......
Later the summer moon came up over the silver tips of the
forest to listen more clearly and celebrate.
What is this she said so fair and pleasing...........