August Snow Part Three (Chapter One)

Chapter One Part Three

Nursling skies of generous promise and resolute bodies

In incomparable conditions. Flourishing, sublime grass and opinions of contrite rendition. The cloudless firmament fulfilling the prophecy of relations in light and the bastion of earth and heaven, venturing an endless night. Burdens of ancient divinity and fathers of substance in precedented

Fulfillment and secret journeys, he accepts the provisions vaunted by the

Carefree sunshine spirit and yearnings, venturing terrains of contemplation

The shaman leopard is close to the source, cat-paw stealth and desires of adoring, hungry flesh, he pronounces the design of a hastened mesh.

Broods of blood and patchwork invitations to secret effect, divergent eruptions of gather stride, the seeker shamming interjects. Our cleaver forefathers fulfillment in clothed graceful greeting, proposed, innate and junctures of escape. Leopard contention and slothful repose accorded and supposed, descried by battle he guards the crossroads to paths of repute, a leopard in grasp and gape clawing from the center of eternity and a grassy maw, surrounded by the twilight horizon and all, in confident belief he sways and chants an armored relief, leopard speed and the sanguine need enduring the harrowed grain and the wrath of a distant rain , the end of tolls

And tenuous flooded play. The man shouts in exhausted prairie fray, “To the lord above the wings of a dove and the ruin of ruptured rifts, send this beast a sleepy cascading gift!”

Rearranged by reason the skies answer his prayer out of the holy season,

Rainstorms of scarlet and amber hue the leopard receives his purposeful

Due. Reserves of radical liquid abandon and prairie wind deepened in defiance and deceitful reliance, the shaman leopard attempts

To rescind the scarlet curtain of interrupted sin.

“Dire-damn and fire-damn, bulwark of dried grass

Deter this shower before your servant fall to cower in the

Mans morass.” Forestalled excluded by the labor of a man

And the angel in god’s nature and drenching embrace,

The leopard roars in his place.

“Edges of mountain and ledges of fountains be your fate, conditions of hell where you’ll be late!” He looks to the distant coasts and the hilly host of land in the lord, he has shorn the will of the leopard with sanctity

And more. The leopard collapses in a baptismal heap, for now he will remain asleep. Hordes of sleeping beasts, the immortal quest lay before the feast of pathways and byways in issued belief, the symbol of comforting relief. A luring religion and notched jagged luminescence in sovereignty and

The expanse of god’s presence, the way of the sun and the lay of the journey

He travels onward, done to seed and the dire need of an angel in pass and the one to the last. The eventide horizon and glowing waves of light, laid bare and in assembled tramp sojourn he sees the testimony in flight, vowing by adoration and supplication to the eternal fight, a beseeching voyage of purity, the vista of a sinless realm and the guidance of a sacred helm.

Seas of grass and skies of glass the secret of footfalls in fertile earth

And the ever present cure of tender mirth, an affected rebirth, wide and long he swaggers in song,

“ Declarations of love

And the lord above

The tendrilled kiss

Of a maiden in bliss

Resounding in symphonies of glee,

This endless swaying sea.”

*******

Refined in rumbles and tumbles of sage rugged seed, his eyes practice the test of an ornamented need, to loyal winds and the fall of speed, unto anointed flesh and the oasis at the evening-tide wine by the gentle currents of palm and tempered rest, the drink, the thirst of a flowing dream in ribbons and worlds yet unseen. Abilities of light and the way of second sight

In pleasures of perception and promising parcel….the liquid sorrow, the rippled pool of rain beckoning tomorrow in sated overflowing celebration
in whispers of possession and wild obsession . Citadels of sanctity

And balanced conceived of corrals in reflective shadow in the refuse of certain hopeless vows, of tended tendrils in craving unabiding thirst the oasis calls unto the wont of the man in the first. The guardian angel provides and by this thought he abides.

To be continued in Part Four………

August Snow Part Two (Chapter One)

Chapter One Part 2

Intact, harbored in delicate folded safety and asylum he exhales,

Suspires and breaths the byway of hammock wreaths. Paths of glory and firmament above a journey of winter love. In defense, to the harbingers of sorrow and the eyes of darkness, his course caresses the saffron blooms

Of haloed guidance and the ramble of pilgrim rag tag abandon, “Onward North!” he cries to the blanket of warmth and the southern skies.

Sunbeam brilliance lights the way as he meanders through another day. Honeycomb delight and the sweet nectar of god along with the hungry

Abeyance of demons he is destined to trod. Mossy Lilly pad frogs and white

Stag infinity are companion in stride, relevant realms of phantasm

And spectral effulgence no longer hide. In conscious definition of

Suspended belief he finds little refuge or relief.

The shadow of malevolent wrath is found in the egress of swampy defiled,

Beguiled touches of earth. Chasing the brilliant rapture

Of dancing white light he finds the will and the remains of angel aspirations

Embody the fight and a moment of pronounced abolition in the face of inhuman sedition. A wraith of delinquent play practiced in glowering contempt,

“From my anger this human will not be exempt!” Unique, strange and faithful to the wary valor and promise of the quest, in necessary requiem

To a world without sin and the vary transcendent win he knows the sanctity and power of love is without rest. Servants of intended revolt and enticing creed waver in shimmering chagrin, expecting the swale and whim of a hero in disarray and feigned courageous endeavor, “In twines of slavery you will spin!” the wraith exhorts as it begins. Relevant buckwheat realms of visionary egress and the protection of prayers in strong echos of Sheppard

Testimony resound in warm exhalations of misty rain.

“Our father who art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name.”

“Stop, cease, halt!” in hurtling screams and anguished alarm a wraith in impossible wrenching clawing confusions of one disarmed. Embraces accepted in veiled mist the spectral demon resigns to the bog of marsh and charcoal sentence, moss and vapory penitence. Animated vigor and the

Balance of benedictions spent on the ethereal gasp of passage lent to the will of god and the courses of sacred quest near the grasslands he shall rest.

A journey to conflict and the peace of grace adorned in the fashion of a myth

Overflowing with truth and summons to say, “I’ll be on my way!”

*******

Tramp roses and ragweed sprigs vehement and tender souled in northward

Gleam, the love of chartered butterfly wings and sighs of sweet smelling

Pine needle sap in the melody of stitched seams. Sunshine bugs and gnarled roots in the manger of dried leaves and fluttering silken cocoons. Straggly, scraggly irresistible beds of wavering grass, the exit of byways in demeanor of swampy morass. Immigrant feasts of dried fruit and capricious fermented wine, the benediction of enveloping airs and dreaming time.

Fastened by transit and the need to rest, horseback lanes and the twilight reins

Of sleeping saints and pleasing confessions of nightmare repose are best kept in the wont of a nighttime rose.

*******

The transmigration of souls in the grasslands of ceremonious fanciful presence and the way of plenty. Supposed in mists of beguiling, rollicking

Memories yet born, the kingdom of unlearned possession and dire obsessions with the veil shorn and truly adorned unto the vesture of a valley in wheat confederate and replete. The shuddering mass of those in northward grass and the fear of leopards in wait, he hears the rumble of thunder detonating with brutal warning. From ambling broad clouds and the phantasm of forces swarming. The flittering evanescent passage of deeply carefree shadows

And showers of daisy petal rain, detours of savage rite in the morning tide and day sojourns tumbling unto pain. Footfalls and ethereal angels in synchronous flight with the ebony cloak of a warm summer night.

He dreams a dream of rainbows and the city of brilliant sinless

Abandon. The nascent growth of a holy seedling tall in girth and concealed berth. The sudden swelling of souls in supplicating sumptuous earth. The wings of a dove and virgin splendid abbeys treasured in misty smoke

And reflections of miracle mazy mirth, the flames of the mantles rare scarlet hearth. Faithful breath and whispering alive the sweet blossom of prophecy will survive. In taunt fur and bristling growls the fangs of the shaman leopard will bawl.

“The grasslands will be the place of your fall, for here we be powerful some of us all!” The leopard grins in toothy glee he knows the man will see. The spectral warning fades to dust, onward north he must.

*******

To be continued in part three.

August Snow Part One (Chapter One)

Ron Koppelberger

August Snow

Copyright 2007

Chapter One

“Demons in bloodless abandon heedless, immovable wanting the

Possession of paralytic charms and the infidelity of

Elemental tangents. Disturbed in conclave window glass

And frozen in artic, gnashing consummation of souls in

Distressing late attrition”

*******

Naive, innate enchanting witchery in the sinew of a dream

And the welcome of a quest for the dauntless bustle of futures

Without sin, prophecy forgiven in the cashew of unbidden barefoot

Clarity and journeys to begin.

Soothsayers and the fate of a king in rag-bag vagabond

Discretion, searching the legacy of a fulfilling consigned

Venture and direction, crystal plums of glass and mosaics of raven eyed gypsy smoke. The pittance of a penny for a curious remedy and the

Forbearance of a sainted knight as the journey unfolds and the byway

Of delirium becomes light.

*******

An oath and tears from the eye of an angel in scarlet and azure

Tincture, a white witches spangle. The besotted touch of

Phoenix agility entwined by the breath of a flame and blessed ability.

A shield of luminescent two fold attendance and the ethereal sanctity

Of spiritual presence. A vow exchanged and the blossom of

Balanced blossoms in expectation of god rearranged. Spoken in the throe of

A precious wish, the mystery of sacred speech and unhesitating exhalation,

“Belie the shadow realm

And guide the sacred helm!”

The witches final exhortation as unfurled savannahs and sylvan paths

Align to the discretion of secret pearls and the sashes of destiny. To honor the special substance of alchemy and unbidden quests for the breadth of straw dogs and calamitous curtseying dragons in white, the adventure begins at the even-tide and the frayed seam of night.

*******

Plenteous and fulfilled in the trail of unbidden tears, a moonbeam and

Salubrious star allaying brave fears. The sacrosanct silent, pregnant prayer

To heavens and twilight wine, signifying the journey and thrust of time.

Thrashing thresholds along the path of tiers and stone already parched and

Feigning a desire for home. Ripples of wind and owls in vociferating

Vocation of wondering wisdom, the bleat of distant sheep and wolves howling winsome with worry for the hunt and incensed by the scent of a human, drizzling saliva and a famished grunt. Straight imbued with the direction of stitches in a long seam, he continues northward forever it seems.

Drowsy, overwhelmed by the victory of a night he collapses tatter Malian still seen in mist by demons in flight. Phantasms and portends of mythical call fill his conscious almost all, the brood of broadened ash and sunshine

Arrays of risen abeyance in possession of magical conveyance and curious

Enveloping crimson ascent in the hold of god’s consent.

*******

The morning dew and emboldened moted sunshine flittering against his pale skin as sleeping in hours times four and flourishing angels in glowing luminescence like sentinels akin. Dreams of Eden and patient cadence benevolently drawn in the truelove trifles of countenances passing, the winded wetlands of moss and lichen hue surpassing the charcoal tattered, gangly shadow of powers amassing. The corruptible morass proceeding a time to come, the journey irrefutably undone, by an unlearned question of wandering sum. Why is it you and why am I not the one? Evil shrieks of death and damp cattail fluff. He sleeps and discovers that the love of an angel

Belies the wish of a demon, The angel sings.

“You were simply dreaming.”

Balanced and alive aware of the quested blessing yet to arrive, Elements of delight in the conquest of spite.

*******

To be continued in part two.

Lady Hawk in Reflections of Color

Ronniewk.weebly.com

Vagabond Heart

Ron Koppelberger

Vagabond Heart

The bond of nights and shaggy parades of poverty, hungry wanting desires of exclamation, “ Scratch a patch, scratch a patch.” he whispered in energetic need, “ Scratch a patch, scratch a patch.” he hissed in sibilant excitement.
Welcome savory smells and tender roast beef perfumes drifted in waves from the interior of the metal box. The trash can stood five feet high on the sides and he peered on tiptoe into the green battered box. The visible remains of a take-out box lay beneath the shredded remains of several garbage bags. Hanging over the edge of the dumpster he stretched his arm out as far as it would reach, just barely touching the white Styrofoam box. “ Damn scratch, scratch that dog.” he grumbled. His legs rocked out behind him as he balanced against his stomach, reaching forward with both hands. His balancing act paid him the take-out box, his fingers found purchase on the Styrofoam box as he leaned farther forward. “ Arrrrrrrrrgggggghhhhaaaa.” he grunted as the air was forced from his midsection. In awkward momentum he propelled himself backward with his left palm against the lip of the can and his other clutching the white chunk of plastic foam. He landed on his heals and pin wheeled for a moment, finally falling square on his rump. He grimaced in a bruised expression of pain and hungry acceptance.
He layed the box in his lap and opened the lid. Smiling, his belly grumbled, a quarter section of corned beef between wheat, it even had a toothpick in it, a pickle and six fat fries with a dollop of partially dried catsup. Written in cross catch salvation he thought as he devoured the plate of food.
He had found his patch, the dusty shadow of a dream, a wish in starving distinctions of taste. “ What’s this?” he mumbled through bits of corned beef. The bottom of the box had an inscription written in azure ink.
“VAGABOND HEART” it read. He thought for a moment and tore the edges of the Styrofoam leaving out the script. He placed the piece of lunch box in to one of his backpacks and made his way home. Home was a cardboard box on Cannon Street.
He lay there, twilight illuminating the edges of the opening to the cardboard house. The smell of cardboard filled his nostrils with its bouquet and dry warm essences. His eyes flittered and finally he slept. The remnants of a struggle and a day of wandering purposeful foraging behind him. The rubble of nearly a dozen broken boulders lay scattered before him in his dream, in a fog enshrouded circle, filling his subconscious; bones and blood covered the dusty Taboo. He backed away smelling wheat, sweet saffron seed, amber rows of grain and moist fertile earth. Turning he saw the endless wheat fields in saffron glory. Beautiful embracing waves of glowing grain. The sky was a deep flowing ember of twilight fire and ebbing sunshine alliance with the seeping indigo skyline. Looking down he saw the piece of Styrofoam, “ VAGABOND HEART”. picking it up he remembered the trash box and the scraps of food.
He stood still for a moment before he realized he was really there. He knew he should have been waking up in his cardboard house, the sound of car engines maybe even an ambulance in the distant city street, yet here he was in fields of sanctified virgin wheat, in fields of grain perfected, blessed wheat. He felt the cool summer tide of air against his skin, touching his cheeks and brow. Looking to the west to unbidden mysteries of spirit, west to the silhouette of nightfall bloom, he sighed and found the passion to move forward from the spot.
Somewhere in the distance a wolf cried to the moon and the wild loves of adventure and desire called to the east.