Awake, My Precious Swan, the Waves are Calling

Awake, my precious swan, the waves are calling. They speak
Of mayflies, and mystic mermaids. Walk the clouds, my
Heart, and speak kindness, my watchful eye. Tiptoe the
Symbols: electrify the music: and soar the undulations, for
Such is love. Ours—a dynasty; and ours—a miracle. Awake,
My precious swan, the waves are calling. They speak of
Blurry lines, Asian roots, and rail road tracks. The caves—
Fraught with soot: the mind—a touch of smaze; but such
Beautiful mermaids; and such mystic elves. Awake, my
Precious swan, the waves are calling. They speak of bleeding
Dreams, and diamond tears, a daisy cry. Infuse calligraphy,
My silent storm: inspirit myth; and tread the skyline. For
Oak, a sturdy root; and pearl, a sacred bead. In truth, the
Eyes, my love—feed the eyes: they tire not.   Â
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Comments
Glen!!........I love this formatting!!.........another stunning display of a master wielding words..........gorgeous imagery my friend!!.............wow!............your friend and admirer...........smiles..........TÂ xx
I thank you, Tony.