Table of Contents

An Unsettled Wine The Flowing of Fate A Sliver of Silver The Keys of Time The Billows of Dust A Salty Ocean Milkdrop The Banquet The Pungent Cheese The Dragon The Aching Wound An Echo

An Unsettled Wine
And so the rhyme of the time, Was like an unsettled classic wine, Which proved to shaken and stirred, When carried upon the journey, From vineyard to inn, And it was settled, As the drinker grinned.

The Flowing of Fate

To die upon the date, Leaves an echo amidst the day, Which is portrayed by the mourning of loss, And the celebration of passing, As the flesh is let go of, And the spiritual passes on.

A Sliver of Silver
The metallic edge of chaos, Calls beckoningly to the sifter, As the wheat and chaff are sorted into place, So the knowing of the future can take place.

The Keys of Time

The keys of time, Unlocked the cherished cherub, Who bought forth the majesty of ages, Upon the date, Of which life was beheld.

The Billows of Dust

Gold-flecked dust, Lingers in the air of the mine, Whilst the miner chips at rock, Seeking his fortune, Amidst the dark caverns of wealth.

A Saltly Ocean
The clear green-blue waters of the bay, Are home to the tropical coral of old, Which portray the gatherings throughout time, As the waves roll endlessly across the surface.

Milkdrop
The amibient splashes of light, Pulsate with frequent energy, As they dance upon the screen, For the listener of sound.

The Banquet
The quick sharp cuts of the knife, Slice the crisp clean vegetables; The slow roasting meat, Drips its juices in the cooking pan; Preparing the banquet, For the family.

The Pungent Cheese

As tasted by the gourment, The cheese portrayed its age, In its sharp tangy taste, Which went well with the wet classic wine, As aged in the casks of oak.

The Dragon
The beauty of its nature, Is reflected in the golden heart held within, As revealed by its serving nature, Which calls to the realms, Wherein the angels reside, Awaiting the humming of time, By which the note of love, Shall by played by the flute player.

The Aching Wound

The salve which healed the aching wound, Was held by the helper in need.

An Echo
The sound lingered hauntingly, And whispered its lullaby, Which echoed through the soul, And cried its loneliness as it held nothing; The realms of being, Beckoned to them, As they beheld an existence beyond now; A sumptuous meal was laid before the guest, As the time of visiting came again, To the home-dwellers of eternity; The toast of luck, Was made out of love, To those in need, Which portrays the hope, That springs into being; And so, the time of seeking, Is at at end, But the time was fair-minded, Along with the best, Of intentions and wishes, For now the age of learning, Has arrived within.