Enchantments Key Poem by Michael Walkerjohn

Pure sands beneath my feet,
tide's taste at my bare toes;
on stretch of pristine beach,
I watch lone sunset's lull;
here within my universe,
braced by quaff of sweet pernod;
I ponder deep the vision seen,
express of mind Rousseau.

Waves rhythm explicates my mind,
away from living's pain;
breath clearing air placates,
a conscious beheading bane;
palms behind me shade thoughts,
pierced by life's strain;
instill in hope for futures',
mankind's caustic will constain.

Orisont pleads to opening eyes,
cinematic sakes purview;
glyphs created by providence,
draw light in evening's dew;
struck is tone at sunset rest,
night's outset emerald hue;
on welkin's flesh earth's kin appear,
ideate truth's blue.

Home, the seed of planted feet,
head high above night skys;
breathe sweetness, darkness slough,
turn to heart's ally;
self's bow helmed to vision's quests,
no longer wake awry;
on peace in wave and sand,
life's test does world rely.

Turn, with hand on key in lock,
open views to sun lit rooms;
never more hold fear to breast,
break the bonds of doom;
cradle close these times,
muster in mind then re-assume;
sole worth, possession of self,
one's light again relume.