The darkling night's moon mirror rolls along,
spans ocean vast, casts scan on open book
whose leaves, when skimmed by those who care to look,
weave tales which surge surf merge, resurge anon.
On wine lees' seas old Homer sung so strong
dwell for a tide, while we abide, life's brook
still flows from source until fate's finger hook -
last call before forgotten fall's doom gong.
Remorse, reflections, [w]hoops of joyful song,
unanswered questions, love's sad tale forsook,
life's challenges that heedless Lethe took,
stay hid, brook neither write nor right, nor wrong.
One night, forgotten, masks more second states,
pearl moon springs pregnant strings for pearly gates.
Silver trophy winner
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