Norman F. Santos Biography

Untainted bliss
Infinite ebullience
There are no words
To convey happiness
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Incongruous creeper of star crossed fate
Muted dreamer with a living to tolerate
Swanking too compensate the lack of luster
A sycophantic wish delivering a note of disaster
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Time is bound in a spell tongue-tied
Prance and wince like the ocean’s tide
And ebb back into the waterfront
At the time you’re eschewed most
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And he was a man with revealing sylvan eyes.
Sad, wandering, eager-eyes swathed with sagacity.
Coy he was, like an eagle in the wild; avert but suspicious.
He is not a child, but he is less than a man.
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Cold tiles mock my motionlessness
And the lashing ambers wavering in tempo.
Frost mourn crawls up with the misery
Knocking me tarnished a vacant chasm.
...