Thomas Foreman

I give to you, a gentle kiss
Enticing passion,
shown of assist
...

Where do the children play?
Are they happy,
in thoughtful consequence?
...

To hold you in my arms once again
Even though you are no longer here
But in a different place
...

She is near…

Come to the iron gates, Child
...

May we be?
Asleep in pastures of lastly thought

Shall we soon see?
...

What is this symphony,
that holds in solemn embrace?
Like a novice,
that lays down his tools
...

You cast your spells,
where even faith is questioned on market value
Ranked in competition,
like petty bargaining on a stores display
...

Moonlit fragments
Speckled they lay,
grasping upon an Angels dawning
Through the eyes of Prayer
...

I saw beyond
The showcased garden,
Sown afar
To the roses abloom,
...

He lies down alongside
Weathered,
Just as the barn
...

The sword is drawn!
Lain in crystal,
From its once grounded scabbard
...

A dragon of brass,
permeates a door through open space
Vesting upon an endless universe
Distant echoes promenade in rightful place,
...

Brushed aside and torn,
Born on wind.
Chanced in air like a lambent seed,
Felled into the thickets.
...

Angels endure the confusion of war.
Plush in timeless traverse,
Both sides, stitched in distress.
Someone dies,
...

For the children in wait,
How they yearn to see
Molten to memory,
How they strive to be
...

Beneath your frozen mind, to the currents that flow.
No more are thoughts as stilled and hidden,
Even underneath your boundary set below this dark sky,
Void of emotion, shaded in gray,
...

While we wait and pause,
we see that meager space
in between the swallow of clouds
Constructed within a gaze,
...

In the stillness of a quiet mind,
breaths in harmony as
free & kind.
...

An opening of heart,
left somewhat ajar
Amatory blessings,
upon a sounding afar
...

As we are told
Walk the ancient halls of our enchanting dreams
Thoughts in gold
Weavers of light threading sun & moonbeam
...