grey days
lead to contemplation
of sunnier times
when all those around you
have lost their way
when the fog of doubt
clouds the mind
and the notion of thought
becomes an ocean
and the stars no longer shine
where is that compass of mine
grey days
lead to contemplation
of sunnier times
when all those around you
have lost their way
when the fog of doubt
clouds the mind
and the notion of thought
becomes an ocean
and the stars no longer shine
where is that compass of mine
Robin on my porch
in autumn time still singing
sunny afternoon
toad in the corner
hidden away from the light
autumn wind blows cold
it wouldn’t be the same
without birds in the sky
singing their songs
sunset
the fading light
bringing the night
there is a time for peace
when all is still
what is left lying around
can be made into whatever we want
a building block of ingenuity
the place to make anew
pyramids of time
The moon rises
and transforms the night
its light descending
shaping the valley
each step a mile
from sunrise to sunset
there lies the moon
reflected in a pool of light
our dream of happiness
lasts us through the night
templates of the stars
kaleidoscopic images
of different colours
strewn across the sky
calling out to her
why did she have to leave
I want to see her again
but I know that is unlikely
when I enlarge my thoughts
and see past the mundane
into the starved world
my spirit transforms
as I embody the past
the present dissolves
leaving only the future
to inhabit