This is my November Rain,
When tears splatter the paper.
Laid my heart on the floor,
Then walked out the door.

Don’t think it will ever recover,
From the mess within.
This my November Rain,
Sealed by love with pain.

Said without thought or consequence,
Through November Rain.
No time to take stock,
Hearts now on the chopping block.

This is my November Rain.

©  Nick Strong 2014

The cherry blossom falls,
From the trees.
And I drop to my knees,
Winter is done.

©  Nick Strong 2014

Tell me who do I see?
When I look in the mirror.
Cos I don’t know,
Feels like the boy I was,
Is looking at the man,
I swore I’d never be.

©  Nick Strong 2014

Looking behind,
The wet footprints,
Drying as you gaze…
The path recedes before your eyes.
No sign of where you might have been.
Looking ahead, no footprints to follow,
A pathway to create.
Invisibly,
Stretching before you….

©  Nick Strong 2014

I am a worshipper of the moon.
A seeker of the darkness of night.
A creature that side steps light,
A keeper of the shadows.
Watcher of silver moon streaked meadows,
A subservient to the crepuscular goddess.

©  Nick Strong 2014