in The Arms, of By and By






A Field,  of Stones

(  Fallen,  Angels  )




*         *         *         *         *         *         *         *         *         *

*     across this Hush and Sigh,  of Days Gone By,      *

*     as Memory,  tries to Remember,  for Ever I will      *

*      listen,  as My Tears,  in Hope’s Light,  glisten,      *

*      to The Echoes far beyond Yesterday’s Reign . . . *

*      as The Lilies sway to the Wind’s Ballet,  and       *

*      The Moon,  slowly,  begins to Turn,  for Ever I       *

*      will weep,  until The Promise I will keep,  nay,      *

     They did not cry,  no They did not die,  in Vain . . . *

*                                                                                              *





from Book II,  The Sword ( Second Sound ) The Tenth DoveTale – The Pinnacle of Choice




on The Pillow of Hope



Dream,  catch Her



and All at Once,

in The Time of a Wink,  and a Promise,

a soft,  luxuriant Hush moves gently through The Willows,

as if Angels,  were whispering to ThemSelves,  of The Days Gone By,

     and of The Days to Come,  and of All These Precious MoMeants in between . . .

and there by The Bend in The River of Souls,  She stands amid a Field of Lilies,

 Each and Every One,  holding The Hopes,  Wishes,  and Prayers of Her Lifetime,

     Each and Every One,  bearing The Weight,  of Her Determination,  and Courage . . .

and as She gazes outward across Her vast Dominion,  She smiles,  for there

on The Horizon,  stands The Rock of Her Perseverance,  and etched in

The Rock,  is The Face of Patience,  and The Look,  etched

on The Face of Patience,  is Peace,

     EverLasting . . .



from Book III,  The Diamond ( Third Beginning ) The Eighth DoveTale – The Bridge of Dreams