Captured Poem by Thomas Foreman

Over vast fields of Paris-green,
streaks of crimson & indigo
burst from a cloud of gold
The land below saturates,
of glass clear lakes

Golden lotuses infiltrate as many.

The thousands,
full of leaves intricate of sapphire & lapis lazuli,
number the rivers.

Lakes are as resplendent.

The bright morning sun shines,
an adornment of golden beds
Fringed in red-rose

The sand beds of the river
envelope tones of ancient white,
inlaid of chromatic gems & soft gold
The lakes are overhung
with olden trees of passionate esteem,
bearing flowers of jasper
Fruit of sweet fragrance abounds.

Orchestrating birds,
pleasure the once silent air.

What was a passing of awareness,
turns a now intricate express
A silent explosion of rain,
sheers down on fields in passive impress

Asleep in pastures of lastly thought,
may we be
An awareness of forgotten expression,
shall we soon see.

Yesterday eases past to flatten out
I walk to the edge,
look down over the side
Memories of past experience abound

I look further out to see...
A Lady amidst the vastness,
in a field of flowers far unrolled
Her eyes awaken to arise,
amongst the lilies strengthening embrace

Standing upon lakes edge.
She stands deep and still proclaiming:

'I am the silence where deep waters flow'.

She raises her bare bright arm,
high into the sky
Holding a scroll of wisdom in her hands
she begins to read...
Her words shine as drops of silence,
Emanating from within her mind
glowing from her lips
Her eyes turn a deep blue...

She picks the flowers of diamond,
from a silence unknown...

then tells me of a lustful maiden
sent out for the search of a mate.
Her approach is smooth and sudden,
as birds of flight
She enters a maze of dappled shadow,
thrust aimlessly about.
He comes to her as a rose with thorns,
being caught in her hair...
Gently woven,
into the web of her mind.

©T.W. Foreman