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Under Saint Augustine Pier | by JamesWatkins
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Under Saint Augustine Pier


A New Day (James watkins) not hdr


A new day begins-



flying around.


Unseen mists of morning-

open ocean green,

blue spouted spray queens-

darkened emerald dreams.


Violent moodiness of

ancient ocean floors.

Standing silent-


by solid sentinel gray doors.


Open your ears to

hear the ancient song-

we are a breath-

a whisper-

and then gone.


Gray white clouds in

measured morning light,

stretch forth ghostly hands

to distant horizon heights.


Flowing sands,

rich soft pillows rising,

foam waters rolled –

Reflectioned sweet-

blessings stormy,

and daggered deep.


Footpaths fallen-

though carefully called-

lie brooding-


silently enthralled.


Come, full- birthed,

appearing quickly

thing of ancient beauty-

aging stars of light-

bright brilliant singing,

resisting evil night.


Bring your watchers

high and steep-

strong on hidden walls,

soft from winters sleep-


unchained mystic music-

mighty opening keys-

darkened dormant dominions-

breath of living wings.


Blown now by fire,

frenzied furnace hot-

desperate with desire,

of beauty that is not.


Frozen mountain stars-

regal, reigning,

galaxies unfurled.

Swirling, dancing destinies-

on anxious alien worlds.


Future hope through

eyes that can not see-

guarded pathways of

mundaned revelry.


Massive mountain darkness,

night mystery and pearl,

deadly wicked wonders,

no heavenly theme



Dying dreams-

sprung to life-

soon escaped

from winters white.


Ephemeral future-

celestially veiled,

tossed and lifeless,

embattled and assailed.


Come forth now,

by seasons force,

to plans of old-

now lend your voice.


Creation sounds,

that groan and sway,

walking free forever-

with joy,

for one more,




James watkins 4/04


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Taken on April 7, 2008