A gem formed under pressure; Thoughts and words subservient; Actions withheld, words restrained Bridled by unseen value Rich with depth and untold fathoms Shaped not given Formed not born A measure poured Pressed down Priceless and pristine Gathered with age Crowned with glory, white radiance, Found by those who desire

Who is the dreamer,

Hard edges,

This is for my Dearest friend Rmtappin

A mournful sound is made by the soul in anguish

A dry breeze stirs from the west

A frozen moment forged in forgetfulness

Nostalgia, that textured nuance of memories made tangible from thought