The Calming

Through the mired haze,
Bogged down by ambrosial marsh;
The kellys and olives and verdants
Whipped with thick clotted cream;
Wisps of breath drifting lazily

The violets and lavenders swirling
Among the midnight and royal dreams;
Silence braided in the entrancing husks
Of the twisting, dancing trees;
The salty mists of the distant spray
Weaving over the coral bank

The unseen rays fading, nestling into
The inky blanket of the warm, sultry night,
Sighing serenely at the day gone by



*of course, the calming draught probably has a lot more attributed to it, but I like to think of it in this manner. *