the lost tower

The Lost Tower

The tower asunder, but not truly broken
a beacon of better times lies in the air
the wave and the foam and the mystic uncurtained
are travellers, all, but all is not fair

Rattling mysteries froth at the landmark
of highwater dreams and dark, stormy sighs,
the ragged rocks sing with a passion so reeling
they net with their song our souls, you and I

We're caught on the outcrop of feelings left passing
becoming aware of the beach down below,
where lace on a finger, a trace of fine webwork
is woven so gently beneath the moon's glow

The glistening sands show us silken, entangled,
our million reflections cast in the mist,
and a freshening zephyr hastens to offer
the sea's softest scent, enshrined as a kiss

A crystalline bubble of poignant perfection
preserved by the murmur of hearts beating time,
soothed in the sussurus lap of the wavelets
our feet tucked together, sharing the rhyme

Obsidian echoes of far off disasters
come trembling forward to skitter and skell,
but moonlight, and surfsong, and water's high magic
may fend off the darkness, a tale time will tell.