Through the darkest blue of midnight
I see the winter of life's song,

I hear the sweetness of a melody
in a time that is all wrong;

I can hear off in the distance
a knowing tune that whistles, free
and, I can hear a song that's wrong, you must agree.

Notes are played, by memory
while not adhering to the score,

I hear a tune that waits for no one
for those who wait, on the dancing floor,

When winters' chill
arrives, via
an icy wind, so cold;

it's quite enough
to convince this man
he's getting far, too old.

The seasons' breath
will do it's best
to further make its' case;

by sharing an empty,
hollow shrill,
that gives lonliness a face.

With winter as
an only pal
that never seems to end;

I'm made aware
the trade's not fair
if I'm not allowed one friend.

I awake to the ever-abiding soul song of life -
the sounds of mothers calling young in fresh near light.
While the timely rooster crows and colour spirits bestir
for control of the far horizon various hued inks fight.

Stirring to the florid smell of sated, calm earth
moisturised by Jack Frost’s recent fresh-dewed call
the distant gentle pound as ocean quenches thirsty shore
a serenity which darkness has settled over all.

Beautiful little blackbird
Greeting the first light of dawn
Fluting and chirping his repertoire
Richly waking a sweet summer morn.

Standing atop a gate post
Singing his song so mellow
Distracting and attracting a mate
With his bill and eye ring of yellow.

Plumping his feathery suit
Darting his beak in the soil
Stretching and pulling out juicy worms
That wriggle and curl in a coil.

My head buzzes
like hornets 'round their nest
I can hear them faintly
far off in the distance
the voices
"You're going nowhere." they mock
"No one cares!" they tease

Louder and more persistent now
Laughter
Echoing down a long, empty hallway
"you're nothing!" they scream
"stop trying!" they screech

Secrets can't be shared
No one can ever tell them
With suspicions they are paired
Slips of paper in the Golem

Raise the dead, you might regret it
Feet of clay can turn to dust
There will be a final debit
And pay for it you must

But man is man, and he must know
What he can and cannot do
Though the wind begins to blow
He adds the two and two

Plans must work, but often fail
Sometimes, they just don't work out
But the thought, it will prevail
In his ravaged mind, it shouts

Tide

The tide turns
And begins pounding the shore
Persistent eroding
Harder and faster
The uncontrollable force
Breaking down the defence
Constant corroding
Faster and harder

The tide turns
And retreats its brutal attack
Erasing its resistance
Softer and slower
The monstrosity recoils
Leaving its destruction
For another day
Slower and softer

I feel my insides churn
You have the upper-hand
Leaving me vulnerable
Upon the blood soaked sand

Shut Up Sometime

Some people talk too much
never shut up
and never listen

Words like rain continue to fall from their lips
a door that can't be closed
and a wooden idol that can't be heard

Shut up sometime
make the world a better place
and stop tuning out knowledge

Listen to the words of your love
shut your trap
and free the peace

THE PRAYER OF MY EVERY DAY.

In life, everything eventually has its end.

Waiting on the inevitable
To drop a hand full of soil
On my dear mothers grave,
When it happens
I feel somewhere deep
It will also be the end of me

Please let life
Continue to flow
Through her veins
The thought of her
Being encased in a lifeless grave
Takes some of my life away

I want to learn how to purr
release the sound from deep below
the one caught somewhere in my throat
a voice I have but it’s hidden, remote.

It seems my desire has no cure
so I search my voice that you will know
what I’m feeling when my senses float
find passion’s scream I wish to emote.

I know it’s there when my senses blur
a lustful emotion I long to share
beautiful songs I have never written
purring love, I’m your soulful kitten.

Loreli