Went walking in the high woods this morning
A light dusting of overnight snow glinting in the sunlight
Like a million perfect diamonds
Over to my right dense forest with barely a track seen
I will save that place for later in the year when
For a few days and nights it will become my refuge
I love such places, clean fresh air and a cold breeze blowing
Very few other people here , to early for them
Such a perfect setting to start the day

Just been going through my poetry
As I'm sure many of you do
And noticed something different
Now so many empty spaces
Where I once saw prophile faces
WHY?
Where have they gone,
why did they leave?
The ones we called our friends
Those who once might have wielded swords
But chose to wield the pen
Now so many empty spaces
Where once were prophile faces

I sat by the dying embers of my campfire
as night descended
And became as one with the darkness
Here I can find peace
surrounded by the sounds of the night
The hoots and whistles of hunting owls, scratching and
scrabbling of animals unknown
and the plaintiff cry of the distant fox.
This is the time to sit and think of the future,
and to see distant memories written in the canopy of stars.
Here in this place I can reflect on things I have done
Consider the paths I want to follow
The darkness is my place, my sanctuary
A place to be free