should a dust mote be told
that it is but dust …..
yet once was an inferno
at the heart of a star?

should a windswept seed
know of the roots and growth
that lie ahead …..
wherever it will land?

should that seed know …..
of the passionate embrace
amongst petals of a blossoming scarlet rose
and the roar of attachment ‘tween lovers?

every balanced caress
every surprised muse
every original destiny

of wind and cloud …..
of breath and life …..
of rain and bow …..
of rose and thorn …..

each offering more
than the other can appreciate fully

a single beam of light
that embraces the infinite gap
between reflection and romance …..
of a perfectly still ocean eventide
threatening brilliance and tragedy alike

The pause between breaths …..
between beats …..
between blinks …..
between lives …..

All are the same length
perceived  as
lifetimes of availability

Of the inseparable bond
‘tween ink and papyrus

of brush and canvas …..
of light and mirror …..
of petal and fragrance …..
of heart and beat …..

all …..
all …..
ALL …..

at some point …..

coalesce …..


Click Mystical Rose for Random Memoirs Poem✨__________________________✨


Of a star so unimaginably distant
I know not how to behold her light

Of a heart so immeasurably near
I know not where to feel her rhythm

Of a star so infinitely crushed
I know not how to release her light

Of a heart so discretely braced
I know not how to salve her passion

Of a star so irresistibly ablaze
I know not how to shield myself

Of a heart so passionately aflame
I know not how to avert my gaze

Of a universe so seductively intended for……

Of a heart so exquisitely zoetic for…..

I know how to cede

I know…..

       (a ….. companion piece for ….. Stellaris)

Of Novae and Hearts

There be Dragons! Nonet

Tofino bound ….. There be Dragons here!

Guardians of yon Silent Sands

Tidal Kings and Queens of Lore

Talons of Destiny

Seek ….. not an answer

Seek ….. direction

Seek ….. the keys

To her


Pointing Dragon Driftwood

Fractal Eclipse Haiku 俳句

Shadowed beryl light

resting buds await blue dawn

Ξ peeking past branches Ξ

Fractal Forest

Rainbow Stars Fibonacci



on life

tidal muse

amoroso stars

eternal prismatic soul mates

Scolded Heart


His cadenced, wistful, trusting heart
vowed amaranthine fidelity
pending only her quiescent antiphon


Our” coalescent trice…..
Our” coherent jiff…..
Our” conjoined breaths…..
Our” onliest destiny…..

Witnessed betwixt a duet of
amorphous, ensorcelled realms…..

The Azure Dragon
      Qinglong     Seiryū     Cheongnyong     Thanh Long
The White Tiger
      Baihu     Byakko     Baekho     Bạch Hổ

Cautioned afore, was I
Excessively emboldened, I became
Prior exhortations, I scorned
Supremely confident, I embarked

Only to have embraced…..

…..a Wraith


Blame not the Scolders…..

Gallery bystanders anchored in awe
silently bandaged their veracious perceptions
loathe to waste any shredded weave
original of mine own infatuated garments

Remnants of my scolded heart
whispering breathlessly
skipping only to a muted, abandoned rhythm


Her familiar entitlement merely punctuates
His Dragon’s share of horror and hallelujah

I willingly accept all unanticipated burdens
now my weight to bear

My Integrity….. intact

I zestfully gaze upon dawning sanguine horizons

Now, solo patience nurtures abundant clarity
Now, is so very near…..

Apprentice once more! HUZZAH!

Dare I shyly serenade afresh…..
…..hopeful of an unwritten concerto?

 Heart beats…..
   Hearts beat…..


     ….. tsktsk…..tsktsk…..  …..lubdub…..LUBDUB…..

Lesson learned…..
A silhouetted silence casts the darkest shadow

… and if I may, I chose to include the following background history of ‘scold‘, as I was delighted to learn of this, after I completed these recent scratchings! Unintentional irony – the best kind!

Word History: A scold is not usually a poet and a scolding rarely sounds like poetry to the one being scolded, but it seems that the word scold has a poetic background. It is probable that scold, first recorded in Middle English in a work probably composed around 1150, has a Scandinavian source related to the Old Icelandic word skld, “poet.” Middle English scolde may in fact mean “a minstrel,” but of that we are not sure. However, its Middle English meanings, “a ribald abusive person” and “a shrewish chiding woman,” may be related to skld, as shown by the senses of some of the Old Icelandic words derived from skld. Old Icelandic skldskapr, for example, meant “poetry” in a good sense but also “a libel in verse,” while skld-stöng meant “a pole with imprecations or charms scratched on it.” It would seem that libelous cursing verse was a noted part of at least some poets’ productions and that this association with poets passed firmly along with the Scandinavian borrowing into English.

Wyvern Memoirs…..

Of a deep, earthy, burgundy hue

his leather-bound, scarred, injured journal

veers majestically apace

lonely star-speckled beach pebbles

all inescapably dormant

each positioned adoringly

upon his star polished driftwood nightstand


He sleeps, aside…..

A weathered, comfortable, familiar

reflectively golden feathered Quill

mystically engineered of

silver edged vane

rainbow tinted rachis

emerald carved barb

thundercloud laced afterfeather

achingly hollow calamus…..

Quill mutely rests upon

the tattooed barrier blockading his scribbled memoirs


What Wyvern soars employing such resplendent armour?

Rests upon? Nay!


Quill passionately clasps and guards

the now dormant scratchings contained within

Quill patiently strokes his etched chronology

swaying in rhyme with the whispering breeze

which sensually enters through an adjacent oriel


All contestants, coolly urging him to


release your annals, encore


allow Nib and Papyrus to embrace


let loose your imaginings


abandon shyness


Let her know…..



He stirs…..

When provoked sufficiently,

His torrid script burns amidst concupiscent entwinings


Quill longs to swirl indecently

captured within an azure drenched inkwell

Nib and Papyrus adhere

contained within their mirrored strokes of passion

touching only to conceive a trailing wake of memories…..

madness        sensuous             tenuous         tender

   chaotic             pulsating           fearful          lustful


His past essence

His emotional legacy



Quill, sans zephyr

trembles with potent pleasure

Nib and Papyrus, in tense with direction

shiver with azure anticipation


He craves clarity from distant echoes

He desires closure from mirrored confusion

He seeks release from her stoic silence


He cradles Quill


A shout of wind accelerates his journal

parting the excited blank codex within

He immerses Quill in moist azure mercury…..




Traveller’s Skye

Traveller stretches supine

on the star-lit beach

hands behind his head

clenched in unison

always, too tightly

forever acting as incompetent pillows

His long driftwood legs

askew at seemingly uncomfortable angles

He permits himself

a rare moment of requiescence

….. and remembrance…..

Traveller surveys his atramentous nightscape

claiming ownership for the one that can’t

A canvas of Infinity above

His sky

eternally alit with voluptuous novae

His sky

rippling with velvet promise

His sky

burning with curious light

His sky

gyrating with gravitating comets

His sky

laughing with ticklish aurora

His sky

pulsing with curious life

His sky

electric with potential

Traveller rapidly blinks

to arrest a queuing tear

…..too quickly sometimes

Traveller’s Skye

would have changed His world……

For Skye…..


These digital scratches were inspired from an accidental post, crafted by a writer-poet EVERYONE should find, read and follow:

Coco J. Ginger at

Thank you for the inspiration and allowing me to feel the breeze while hitchhiking on your magic carpet of words!


You might be reminded of me when you’re travelling

You might be reminded of me when you’re near a fireplace

You might be reminded of me when you make cinnamon rolls

You might be reminded of me when you’re not gardening

You might be reminded of me when you need a shoulder

You might be reminded of me when you send a postcard

You might be reminded of me when you’re in a rush

You might be reminded of me when you’re cycling

You might be reminded of me when he awakens next to you

You might be reminded of me when he abandons you

You might be reminded of me when comforted from nightmares

You might be reminded of me when you read his poetry

You might be reminded of me when laughing and studying

You might be reminded of me when you’re glancing at other men

Or maybe you will avoid being reminded of me ever again.

I will always remember what went wrong

I have been scolded that I cared for too long

And memories answer to such a fickle temptress

But I am told that it will get better and I remind myself I no longer need to be with you.
Remembering is treacherous as is exchanging passions for the unknown,
the heartbeats for my senses only – invisible, yet familiar companions

Because reminders become placeholders for fleeting moments of healing

You might be reminded of me when you kiss him

When you gaze down and offer to him, that same answer, I once forever requested

You might be reminded of me when you sojourn to The Azure Dragon – and turn both your lives into one

Journeying….. ‘tween perfection and clarity

Haven’t we all attempted to…..

Pursue a curious wraith
bottle a shifting shadow
enfold a blazing colour
embrace a deepening fog

All during weak moments of ….. clarity

Clarity is simply a brief
random illusion
optics ….. only



free of meaning
wanting of significance
lacking in passion

Awarded the right light
the right instance
the right rhythm
the right ….. words …..

I patiently dare for
intense moments of perfection
that overwhelm enduring clarity

Six moments of perfection are mine

Far more than I deserve…..
Far more than gratitude conveys…..

‘tween perfection and clarity

Cherishing silently

Exquisitely elusive
junctures of certainty

Forever coalescing
‘tween perfection and clarity

…..of the very little I am certain of
This I am MOST certain of….

Two hearts, will beat in rhythm
True heartbeats, will conceive rhythm

Two hearts, cautiously embrangled
True heartbeats, eternally entangled

Fate slyly taps her toes
to the rapturous whirrings of
Two True Heartbeats

Two eternally …..entangled….. eternally Two

∞ Quantum Temptress ∞

Ah, but She is my bewildering temptress!

Solely, for me?

I now wonder, aloud…..

I now wander, alone…..

Soulfully, for me?

Dare I delay…..

…..dare I desire

Skirring amongst my alembicated longings

as easily as fog over glass

Her moist balance endures

…..and I am


teetering with passion!

Knowingly, would I risk…..

….utter devastation


DAMN this serendipitous shyness!

She IS my bewildering temptress!

Staggering with realization

I ….accede….




to my acquiescent future…..

Ciúnas of Sin

Dormant is she

attended only by her

chillingly promiscuous pace

Vituperative rage

scalds her senses…..

isolating her


saturating her


monopolizing her

…..impregnable fear

ALL vying for dominance

and ultimately

her self-destruction



Selfish living

Selfish leaving

An armament of silence

escorts her pulse-less heartbeat

whilst she

traverses the invisible crevasse

of his banished love

She will plummet

She is plummeting

…..and yet still

purposefully evades him…..

Let it go…..

…..Let ME go

Derkesthai Adumbratus

His adumbrated perimeter

hints suggestively at an

artlessly shy persona

Beware the Penumbra

of a Shy Dragon

Encountering his shade

will opportune a balance

of temporary permittance

for a mortal presence

seeking adit

to his domain

No dragon ever casually

discloses his veil…..

…..unless he senses


A dragon’s shadow

is neither dark

nor deceptive


It is eternally…..


His ambuscading veil


guards and protects

a most treasured virtue…..


Share a dragon’s passion…..

and become

a part of his forever

Shun a dragon’s patience…..

and be perpetually


to his ambit

The choice….

….is yours…..

Pursue his Penumbra…..

∞ Quantum Wait ∞

Sheathed in a velvet mist


cambered shoulders

brook the weight of patience





weathers solitude so pure

even fog hesitates

to cloak

his now outstretched arms

with dewy tears of healing

Emptiness favours the waylain

She is somewhere…

….anticipating passion


why the pain?

I am…..

…..a shy dragon

I am learning…..

… be

a patient dragon

An Amaranthine of Tenderness

Her stroke of tenderness

paints Her deep heartbeat

on the canvas of My soul

Mine is a delusion…..

My own resonant tenderness

a chroma on Her heart…..?

Requited zealous passions

fragment our

sequestered solitudes




Lovers overlay the canvas of their hearts…..

daubing them with

beautious florets of tenderness

Passion deems to self-justify

by overwhelming Tenderness

…..Tenderness survives

as Time Herself, is an ally…..




Tenderness, is the true colour of Love…..

An Amaranthine of Tenderness

Intact of Empathy


intact of empathy

weary of heart

predestined to guide

wearily enjoining mortal paths

A transit of

heinous sorrows

delicious ironies

sympathetic fortunes

How dare she inflict more pain than pleasure

…..on those least deserving

on those most deserving…..

And once again, Destiny herself ponders…..

…. Who then administers my own fate?

∞ infinitas inamorata ∞

Resolve to be

unflinching of the infinite



is assuredly challenging

Sempiternal truth

callously trumps

reckless passion



….as curiosity….




infinitas inamorata