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Nov 2018
Away, the distant gales bring
The noblest trees to weeping.
Far above the valleys sweeping,
Isolated church-bells ring.

Beyond the brittle urban winds
Of cities never sleeping,
A mute and mournful nightly breezing
Sweeps the moon upon its wings.

Somewhere cold and far away.

Peace is never truly lost
It merely doesn't stay.

Raptured by the valley-frost
Into the veiled sea of grey:
Often gone, but never lost.

Simply weeping

Far away.
A sonnet on silence.
#11 in the Distant Dystopia anthology.

© Lewis Hyden, 2018
Lewis Hyden
Written by
Lewis Hyden  18/M/Bristol, UK
(18/M/Bristol, UK)   
       SamanthaX, Shadows, ---, Woodweaver and multi sumus
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