Sky Dancer & Oxford, My Beautiful, Misty Love

© By James Morris

Sky Dancer
Sky dancer, Sun-isle beauty what do you want in all your hearts of golden magentic sobriety
all that which is to come, ecstatica, she howls
her call reflecting new found discovered mysticism
of distant adventures not yet dreamed.
She sighs - I am the sporadic cantadora’
I the keeper of stories and I the never ever ending pedantic exordium of annularity in treacherous and yet perpetual mood and far I –
I the multiverse
The ever changing tempest of all that which is to come
And then rest my beauty
Rest in all your heart felt desired wisdom
Rest – rest my love rest

© James Morris April 05



Oxford, My Beautiful, Misty Love

My faithful, fairest love, what dreams I have
You wish me bright, you give clarity of illuminating, warm, and moody but dazzled light.
You ebb and flow like stormy clouds wishing moons off far clear.
You free and winged fair like an undiscovered star.
Kiss my heart in inspired caring joy of knowing your inner beauty I care.
You stare we speak a million words
And fear no feelings of hated swords of pain and despair
Only love, one heart, one reality.

James E. Morris
worldwide copyright, 2005


United in Wisdom We Love, We Live, We Love

Sisters and brothers and yet we still struggle.
We are the lights, we are already united in blood, in air, in earth, in life.
Look into your hearts and tell me there is divisionalism, racism, hate, and ignorance.
You can’t, can you. That is because these illusions of fear are demonical false lies.
We must defend ourselves against the offensive minority who want to burn us at the stake of lies.
Totalitarian fascists steaming into our lives must be disbanded, in peace not war, in love, not hate, in bravery, not fear.

James Morris
Worldwide copyright, 2005



Samhain Mother Heart 31/10/05

Shadow breaths shroud your misty, ancestral love.
Your kind; my heart I feel your ancient wisdom, my mind I see.
For far deep within distances not yet trod I see a mystique, serenity not yet wished.
Panpipes and goat skinned drums recycled in celebrational essence of life not forgotten or lost but gained in love, and mooted, happy joyous swaying rhythmic breezes of blessed be.
My mother our beauty your tranquil peace I honour.
Your child with love I am forever.

James Morris
Wordwide Copyright, 2005

more of James' poems at: James E Morris Blog