Submissions by Lozzamus

The sunlight falls like a mist

An ancient waterfall among trees

A chilly morning with a hint of sun

An early dawn horizon.

The garden stands still

Winter

The leaves have vanished

Leaving branches empty

Skeletal reminders of a distant summer

The unseen violinist plays late at night

Long drawn out tones that tremble with emotion
 
A haunting Czardas set in harmonic minor
 
Flattened Sixths that speak of other worlds
 
Of longing and beauty and despair.
 
The tempo quickens, the mood switches
 
The violinist’s bow dances across the strings
 
Like a wagon speeding across a country path
 
The sounds of the wheels echoing as the night sky watches.
 
The violinist plays with ease
 
A lively dance.

The sand rolls ahead, a rippling carpet,

Smooth and pure under the glow of the moon.

The temperature drops, the breeze icy but refreshing,

Blending with the scent of the sand.

The moon reflects on the water, painting the horizon silver.

Mystery.

All around there is silence,

Deep and static, like the sea.

The dream,

An early morning awakening.

Past and present merge.

I’m in an unfamiliar place,

Staring at a concrete intersection,

Searching for known landmarks,

Trying to establish which way to go.

Each road leads to confusion.

Isolation.

Echoes of childhood have vanished for ever,

The familiar buildings replaced by office blocks,

And I stand alone by the crossroads, lost and without purpose.