Prophecy (second attempt)

Not so far from phoenix cry,
A difficult, unlucky pry.
Magic born of open sky
Cage a story thrice defy:

A mortal end, immortal soul,
Duel plumes of dual goal.
Far from freedom, timeless foe
That one must cause the other woe.

With that shadow, left of age,
Hidden from untimely sage,
Hard it bodes, the war it wage
And one should die a timely mage.

Dream

Plummeting mischief,
Her wings spread wide, feathers dust
Sleep, a valley soft.

Watercolor Heart

My love so deep, a river sound
That catches all that brush my ground.
Strokes of fate, I call embrace,
And all the world with lovers' trace.

Leaves do plummet, red and gold
Which light upon a journey sold,
That eve of winter lease to fall,
To end her envy of us all.

But come, my love, to my banks
And wash away your journey woe,
That powdered flush upon your heart
To paint upon my months of floe.

Parallel Hearts

She drew her heart upon a sleeve
Which sits so high upon a sieve,
Sifting upon that love believe
Long, a frill should fall and grieve.

And yet, she turn a rounding gate,
Sweeping in a step of fate.
Men, alike, no challenge late
That leave her sitting dry, irate.

Such a man is hard to find,
Who turns his head without incline,
Yet lowered pause seeks half decline,
For both do draw a measured line.

A Poem...Blogs

Free verse, my sage,
My rebel child.
So far wandered,
My sweet Captive of a cloud.

No rhyme, no reason,
So they say,
Forever, at meters so forth
You distant sway.

Yet, beauty of you,
Dear unknown,
Sheds time and wings
That ask for themselves.
Perhaps, then,
I don't know all.

Hard Hearts Not Alike

A heart of gold too often finds
A catch in silver hearts inclined
Upon those threads of copper bold,
So still, the hearts around them mold.

What game is this, that riches play
Which falls upon a squandered day?

This jest of hammers, formless sheets
So precious ink, would never meet?

And yet, they sit in honest den
Where jewelers meddle, thieves again,
To forge for patrons, dull and brass,
So homely come, soft glowing pass.

Wandering Love

A promise fall in promised wake,
A lover's soul did leave and take.
Vain, a promise heart did make,
A lover scorned in lovers' wake.

Who was to know if they were true,
Vows so cast as lovers do?
Liars need those hearts so few
Which sow for truth as liars grew.

Perhaps, no truth, perhaps, no lie
Could pull the hook from anchored sky,
But eyes all virtue thrice defy
As glances send the heavens fly.

Post 100!!! I'm not sure if this is supposed to be an upcoming (now occuring, soon to be past) given for a devoted blogger, or simply a landmark that we all sleep by. Yet, still it must be a landmark. All numbers are one kind of landmark or another, whether a dagger in the eyes or a dagger to the eyes.