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The  leaves  now  saying
a  sad  farewell.

To  the  trees  they
have  adorned  so  well.

Yes,  autumn  glory  is  here.

Keith  Wilson.  Windermere.  UK.  2017.
I think too much, and thoughts
Can be demons carrying fear,
Doubt and pain as they chase me
Down paths where there is no hope
And optimism isn’t even an echo.

In the bottom of It all, where the dark swallows everything
I find myself whispering “I want to go home”
And I am comforted by recalling a house
In a time when I was encouraged to believe
The consequences of not reaching for a better place
Were worse than failure…
A fable for kids that has been beaten out of adults.

Home, the place where I could always go
And they always let me in with a smile.
It's gone now, alive only in a whispered invocation
When the bad thoughts invade my mind.

Maybe you can never go home again,
But maybe its recollection is a seed
To a new home where my role is different
Though necessary to others who may someday
Whisper in desperation so the memory will let them in.
Merry Christmas to all you (like me) morose poets looking for the truth.
The cold end of a moonless night
I was drifting in a graveyard
Where the stones spoke of who rested there;
“Loving Son”, “Dear Mother”, “Veteran”, “Beloved Child”.

I was drawn to a tombstone marked “Unknown”.
The burden of being buried without the
Comfort of a name weighed heavy on me as the
Sky lit softly, pushing back the darkness.
And I knew it was time again to slip beneath
The nameless stone where I must wait for night to call me up
And I can search until I find enough tears shed for me
To equal those I caused.
When we hear Jesus say "I give you this day" that's Amore
When I'm having a blast Jesus says "Not so fast" that's Amore
When I just want a drink Jesus says "Stop and think!" that's Amore
When I look up above and trust in Your love (that's Amore) X3
Sung to the tune of "That's Amore". Written on by Men's CRHP 41/42 at St. John Neumann Church. Lyrics by Peter Newburn of the Sputtering Candles
Secure within the mother’s womb.
Sheltered from all storms of life.
Swimming,
Swiveling,
and
Sustained.

The countdown begun-

A wide world awaiting,
Eager faces looking,
Windows opening,

to
Colour,
Scent,
Sound,
Taste and Touch.

But,
Expectations shattered,
Exasperation heightened,
Execution begun,
Excruciation settled,
and
Expulsion confirmed!

Chopped to pieces,
Down to trash.
‘The most unkindest cut of all’!

Betrayal!
Horrid Betrayal!

Through eons,
History repeats.
‘Am I my brother’s keeper’?
The Son of Man –
sold out,
with a kiss.
Et tu, Brute!
Nipped in the bud.... ! How many such cries die out unheard !!!
When a mother's womb turns the slaughter house, it is the bitterest betrayal !!
My Lady:


Oh, can you dance, can you dance strong
until everything below turns into pure gold?
And do you see this precious sunrise as a gift to all of us?
         Do you number the sound of the whistles in the wind?
     For I have a year more to love, to breathe, to see life with you.

My dear, my dear do you see that everything
is filled with new power and new strength?
Would you hold onto my voice
like I hold your hand and feel forgiven?
Before every desire falls from my lips,
do you know how to run free?
 For I have the melody of life & second chances
engraved into my hands.

Can you hope - against the teeth of wolves
that encircle our own feelings?
 Will you fall upon your knees when heaven forgets your voice?
So when you lose hope and strength,
you will find me again and again.
For I found the power that destroyed
death so that you can see everything new.

Do you know how to love,
like the endless numbered stars?
Will you write His promises in your heart
so that you can always hold on?
               So when nothing makes sense and
            all desires fades, we will rest in adoration.
For everyday the angels are taught
 how to describe His great love for us.

So behind the winter rains and winter season,
we can dance into the sunlight time after time.
Until the moonlight falls by
        will you sing with me until we touch the sky?
Writing in love, and then
Writing without.
Breaking two stones with
One bird.

I'm a poet, my darling.
I can **** with a feather,
Revive you with one written  
Word.
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