The scent of the air after it rains gives me the most poignant feelings. I have never experienced the like in all my years. It takes me to another time. Another place. I’m waiting for you under the eaves of tall dark-green trees. There are lone cottage houses standing in thick white mists. You approach and we stand just outside the wood where the grass rolls for miles. The absolute quiet is bliss and a gentle breeze slides against our ears, teasing our clothes and glancing off our ankles. We’re going for a walk.
Continue reading “Walk With Me.”
The window is open and the wind is cold,
As I lay in my bed feigning sleep, I feel old
The hollowness in my bones speak of stories untold
There will be few memories that my bosom today will hold
I perceive this from the lack of enthusiasm with which I greet the day.
All the actions and reactions that will, with it, fall into decay.
I harbour no remorse for the want of warmth in my stare
And I feel that those who ask it of me shouldn’t really dare.
It is not for me to judge the tides of such stirrings
I fear I am not experienced in these whirrings.
I fall short when it comes simple joys, but to the brim in human ploys.
I am like the moon when she is round and full,
Making you rise up like the waves, gasping at the pull.
Continue reading “A Dark Soul, An Old Soul”