Memories: Artifacts Of Clay

When a baby cries in hunger for a suck 

Then, the source dries finer of a luck

 

Miles before cameleer ducks in the fancy of mirage

Guile furor crept mocking at the tardy marriage

 

Between a vision what I see and I hear

And a legion of the reason I always forbear

 

Muse ascend on the mind as a sorcerer

Spelling its magic on the flight forever

 

Memories artifacts, A peddler sells out

Experience the master, Poetry is all about

 

Mother antique stoned to dust in time

No honey does emanate from breast fine

 

Journeying in the sand of imagination

Joy seems to be that perennial vegetation

 

Feeding the hunger of a child with its soul

Harping on finer to shield the great lull

 

Left are the remnants of memories old

Ceased under the ticking time to unfold

 

When it grows to its youth, wings of fancy fly

Then, the memories live as artifacts of clay

 

Tides of time sweep the art to the origin back

Beginning in end, the journey continues without a break