Bric-a-brac (revised)

What if bric-a-brac were not benign,
But plotted plans of evil design,
Together in twos, or private pairs,
In hand-sized hide-outs and little lairs?

What if behind those smiling faces,
Of clever cuteness and cunning graces,
Lurked latent lies and tiny traces,
Till now unseen by human races?

What if they conspired, schemed, and contrived,
Busy as bees in a big bee-hive;
And one day, unveiled in declaration,
All their plans of world domination?!

Shipwrecked

like committing the horizon to paper
and fixing its intangible points to a graph,
who can map out the subtle lines of beauty
or mark down where she begins and ends?
those who have found themselves within her waters
or navigated through the paths of her sea,
are lost to the world around them
and swallowed up in a siren's dream.

and still she calls to me.

who can match her maddening gaze
or take her by the hand as one would a lover?
who would stare at the sun or extend
a hand to the waves of the sea?

and still she calls to me.

come winds! beat the hull of my heart!
come tides! throw me against her distant shores!
and i'll be the happy stranded,
and gladly join the joyfully lost!