And thus the sunset beckons now the night
As stars begin to glow and so reveal
That once the dark has quashed out all the light
The moon and stars display with wondrous zeal.

As man will walk in countryside by night
Polaris shining bright to light his way
Where pitch-black sky was not a unique  sight
He searches  for that unspoilt place today.

For mankind spread and in his wake made light
Which blurs the view of Heavenly array
While phosphorescence glares so very bright
We miss the wonders of our Milky Way.

©Joe Wilson – O for an inky-black sky…2015

yes, magnificence, quiet
graces
me around with a peaceful nothing
a night
of silent stars and muted moonbeams

yes, meditating, only
there I
am an island in a riotous gathering
roar on
the sea the sun the fountains
I drift in

I lay in a bed that is too warm,
while the inner wind is too cold
and the sounds of rain, echo through my ears.
I lay here, adding up my worst fears.

I have stress gnawing on my fibers
and a cancerous depression leaking through my body.
I bury my face into the firm pillow,
serenaded by sorrow's solemn fiddle.

I'm unsure what to do: to scream or to cry.
I'm running on fumes, too empty to decide.
I think often, but I find no release.
The silence, apart from the rain, is closest to peace.

What hath thy wrought?
I cannot understand what or how to feel.
I'll toss and I'll turn in utter frustration,
knowing that I lack the answers to my deep contemplation.

You may question if you be so bold,
but the answers I've given have already been told.
So, now I lay, in my uncertain blight,
hoping for another chance towards that beacon of light.