Regretfully, yours

My place on the shelf
has turned dusty and old
hands of the clock turn
yet my breath grows cold

Smother me with silence
in this night’s cool air
smooth my rigid corners
for time has not been fair

wind blowing softly
lost in her sweet time
withstand bitter yearning
from this lost soul of mine

Heart, lonely and stale
just as fruit on the vine
left to linger past harvest
like this wretched life of mine

Close off the passage
turn the last latch key
draw breath, so bitter
my captive spirit, set free


Copyrighted by Kentucky Dreamer

Winter Sounds Good About Now...

Written while sitting on a log in a secluded patch of woods near my home. The ground covered in a virgin snow that not even the birds had tracked across.

Sweet Lonliness...

Silence... Dead silence

That is all I hear

Save the pounding of my heart in my ears

This blanket of white silence

That has buried living and dead

A silent shroud of tranquility

Nothing but the grave could ever be as silent

As the woods, under cloudless skies, covered in snow

The songs of birds are frozen in their throats

And not a leaf rustles or stirs

All is silent… Dead silent

How peaceful, how sacred

How absolutely divine

No sound on Earth is quite as profound

As woods asleep in the snow

The sound of sweet loneliness

Copyright © 2007 Mike Lawson