River Dogs

Ron Koppelberger

River Dogs

Riverboat wash in reeds and Lilly pad shores of sanctity,

An honest captain in ancient array and vesture,

Fulfilling the birth of a gossamer dream, in sunglow and

Mirrored double vessel, in ripples of fostered egress,

Unto the fortune of proposed centuries and decades in deeply

Essential drift, further upheld by the will of flowing

Destiny and promised gain. By waters reserved for priests

And river dogs.

Mysterious Chase

Ron Koppelberger

Mysterious Chase

Sunday immeasurable, specifically alive

In the all of forevers denial, by time and

Wash, by fractured fame and the interwoven

Will of a design in alabaster wonts of cool sated sugar ice,

By the ascending love and the swell of a mysterious

Chase, by frayed edges and moths lighting the horizon

With an evanescent rhythm, by the calm meeting of marriages and veils in lace

                                                                              Desire.

Tradition and Love

Ron Koppelberger

Tradition and Love

Families and parchment lines of ancient

Leaf, by warm skirts and rhy gulps

Of whiskey perfume, in spicy acclaim and grandmother’s

In cooing cure, for the wont of children

And stray parades of drama,

The feast in full circles of tradition

                                                                             And love.

In Heaven's Grasp

Ron Koppelberger

In Heaven’s Grasp

Exhaling the mystery of silhouettes in charade, in discerning

Revolutions of beauty and bliss, the affectionate dream,

Sleeping with the desires of everlasting

Love and passionate shadows craving kisses

And almond eyed storms of fire, branded by the charm of a simmering

Brew and rare rippling sensation of ecstasy, kaleidoscopes

In passing rite and grateful glee, given unto the source

Of reveling reveries’ and borne confessions in

Twilight ink, in unspoiled betrothal, a sky spattered

By the fireflies held in heaven’s grasp and caught raging

The evening-tide age.

Winged Trust

Ron Koppelberger

Winged Trust

Easy in symbols of announced voyage, a gossamer

Veil, untold by the quest for liberty and love, by the minute

And wild diversions yet asleep, bred by charmed beginnings

And courses in cascading journeys of ethereal belief,

Rare havens’ in reflection and careful reward, a prayer

In deed, a summery in vaunt, the love of winged trust

                                                              In innocent shapes of sleep.

The Birth of a Child

Ron Koppelberger

The Birth of a Child

The delicate bloom of replete shapes in evolution,

The birth of a child in solitary declarations of love,

A sure sated sensation keen in languishing desires of

Exhaling song, a gasp, a tear spoken by the inevitable dream

Of existence, in secrets adorned by the shadow of passion

And life, a ghostly creation in tenderly escorted bliss, in

Willful perfections of sublime embrace, an exalted season

                                                                      Of magic allure.

Seasons that Sail

Ron Koppelberger

Seasons that Sail

The rift in scenes we sift,

The turn in zest we spurn,

For the emboldened thrall in one

And all. A chief ward and a belief

In swords that create the here and the

Late bloom of blossoms in tune and tempos in

quiet ceremony and cause, addressed by gauze

In veils and seasons that sail.