no reason for tears to sit, sometimes leaking
down a face which doesn’t realise they are there,
let alone know why.
Very strange and mysterious is the interior life
which knows incalcuable depths,
yet keeps those same vaults hidden and locked away
from world ….. and smiling, survivor self.
Clock’s ticking now
while in the day the
sounds of life drown
clock’s voice away.
The vibes of things
humming now it’s night.
The cars all gone as
darkness comes winging
its shadowy flight.
While others sleep in
hollows of mysterious lands,
at least one soul is toiling,
thinking, searching while this
revolving world spins
right around its never ceasing span.
Sleep is weighing down on the eyes of the people tonight…..
Feathers fall from the skies like particles of stars
as God’s own passionate ones spoon together
under a mellow duvet of golden beams.
“Good sleeping Love birds” says the Owl of the white barn.
“Fair flying oh watchman of the night…” say the swooning Lovers.
The old school clock stands in silent too,
until the dew filled dawn seeps over the horizon
and far away, in foreign lands, other faces are washed,
bags are filled with weighty books, as a new day
calls the people to add another chapter to their Lifescape.