~

I can hear the birds singing,
but I can’t see them
Calling for the sun to rise
from dark branches scraping the sky
Full of life they sound
perched high above the speckled lawn
Clinging to sticks, crooked and bare,
formed of countless years trying
and mistletoe nightmares

Melodies bridge the breeze,
lonely corn fields of narrow rows
and a garden of sleeping blooms...
life waiting to be reborn
to paint the landscape with color
Bringing happiness to the birds
singing anyway on the cusp of new,
the edge of beauty near
as northern horizons wake

Grey skies still cling the heavens
I listen, quietly to this music
as if their harmonies will lift
the loneliness from my heart
Chambered worries of what will come,
pulsating rivers in free flowing vistas
counting minutes until spring arrives
and I whisper a sad good bye
but I will return…I will return

+

Canterbury crimson
On the plot that stands the rim
Beckoning the lonely souls
Oh please do come on in

Find a feast that’s waiting
Drink until your fill
Kick those shoes across the floor
Spit along the spill

Everyone is happy
Can’t you see their smiles
Torches burn the shadows through
Some have come from miles

Dance among the ruins
Yes, your life is there
Fall into the dark abyss
We’ve so much more to share

Crawl the crooked hallway
Feel the pain increase
Blistered skin and fractured bone
Oh well, to say the least

Chains are always ready
Locks are rusted tight
Forget about the sunrise spell
Just make it through the night

There’s no use in crying
It’s music to our ears
Melodies of freakish song
Lyrics penned in fears

Find the darkest corner
Make yourself at home
Hell accepts most anyone (even poets)
You’ll never be alone