False Echoing Reply, Love Poems

What such sounds should be hidden in a shell rogue calypso waves in dawn's furthest reach singing beneath the salt dew's haughty smell that stalls upon the sand stormed gypsy beach. Coarse winds play the harmonic flute replete with spiral rounds that lull the churning tide imbued with ocean's boisterous sounding reefs, choreographed waves dancing by their side, retained within the shell's false echoing reply. What such sounds break upon the mountains rush requiting oaths to the four winds spoken treads the river wry and the thorny brush piercing lies when truths are old and broken. Rings of change tarnish eternal tokens as branchless trees emit weak tepid sighs and grains of time at once gleamed gold and golden flighty love stripped of wings no longer flies squawks to the cold hills with false echoing reply. What such sounds flush with lovers warm embrace that call on stars under starlight’s steady rain brightening beginning through youthful gates opening their hearts unfettered by its chains. But all for naught and all soon turns to pain, diminishing the light once in their eyes; words of love spoke with soulless songs refrain, the mountain rush, the sounding shell will die, repeating, repeating the false echoing reply.