"Henry Hudson's Muse"

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    Jt Smith
    Keymaster

    cold water rests on the shoreline
    as the crystal waves begin to sway

    where diffused stars had burned
    for a new day

    a warm place inside the river’s soul
    of these aching bodies

    love is a fickle memory that runs
    past these blue waves

    yet we covet the moments stolen by the earth’s moonbeams

    we imagine highly

    waltzing on the water to rescue these fractured dreams

    we admire her grace whenever
    we pretend to sail the waters of her mystery

    like the romantic ship named Half Moon
    that discovered her 400 years ago

    gazing into the river valley today on a misty afternoon

    wondering where the secrets of her womb had been protected

    the night of her sleep is an instrument of ancient love

    an unconditional love that transcends
    the surface of her organic beauty

    as well as the distance of her origins

    the mariner’s tale has been retold by older ghosts

    a story where Nature is queen

    and mankind is the caretaker of a scorched ecosphere

    the faery song has been followed by signature notes

    that glides along the water

    she is the merchant vessel which travels her passage

    she is the star that descends into the abyss

    she is the night’s mystique that covers the water

    the shoreline is kissed by cold waves in December

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