sleep is a beautiful chore
awake is an attic fan lullaby
awake is cars passing by
awake is clothes hanging out to dry

when I go to sleep
I tell myself I’m digging in the cold sand
of that unfamiliar shore

I see the moon and the moon sees me,
And the moon sees the one that I long to see

Winter is upon us now; it's true the Blue Ridge's freezing
Night begins before I’m ready
It descends on the sky prematurely.
My energy fades throughout the day
No longer can you sit and enjoy the last rays.
I’m scared of the wind and the bitter cold
Especially what the darkness can hold.
Things that were seen are lost in the night
I’m safer inside, with a candle for light.

But soon the sun will decide to stick around for long
Light triumphs dark once more,
That’s when life begins a new song.

In the morning I wake, eyes opened in a foreign place
I don’t know these wall or these sills
Nor this bed I find myself in
These windows are, thee only familiar thing
Wide doors, dark passage wall
My mind seems to be running
I’m too afraid to touch the marble floors
Looking at my reflection head tilted down
This place is all to foreign to me
The curtains hang from ceiling to ground
Covered in what looks like circus clowns
To my left a candle lit, to brightly beam
To the right a door, that leads to my dismay
I feel the breeze run through my hair
Waking every sleeping, pore
My throat is dry, my mind confused
Where am I, wait who am I
Have these four walls, taking away my identity
For some faint reason I cannot remember
WHO I AM
I feel lost, isolated and even dead
Well perhaps this is hell at its best
For heaven seemed warmer, brighter and blessed
This is a nightmare - as I move to get off the bed
In total silence I slid to the edge, my face
Tiled towards these marble shinning floors
Where my reflection, reflects right back
A look of fear, anxiety and total disarray
As my feet touches the floor I feel,
Shivers run up my spine to my neck
The ground is cold and horrid too
Of all the colours, grey is what you choose
You must have, had a dull and boring life too
WHO AM I

Dewdrops on
the meadow
reflect memories
to the roses.
Her sighs painted
the sky of the North
as the church bells
echo in the tall trees*

*,, Oh, Anamaria,
leave your floral meadows.
And watch the reckless
waves trying to escape the sea.
Listen....
They sob for you lover,
his soul lost at sea ,,

My window frames me in reflection,
I gaze out to the snowy mountains
Beyond myself, yet before such places
You have run to, it has been so long,
Now comes another new winter, I see
Snow drifts reaching, winds to the sky,
High atop the autumn white mountains
Paler than loneliness, white as my hair.