Sep 2013
Be still this night my wing-ed friend
the day is yet a dream
and I with you will share my cup
my coffee and my cream
Be still this night my wing-ed friend
Sweet offspring of the moon
and I with you will share the stars
here captured in my spoon
Be still this night my wing-ed friend
fear not the coming Sun
and I with you will share my friend
as im in need of one
Be still this night my wing-ed friend
let fears soft roll by
and I with you will share the storms
that in my teacup lie
Be still this night my wing-ed friend
as dawn doth soft now breaks
and let us now each share this space
and sleep as day awakes
the day is yet a dream
and I with you will share my cup
my coffee and my cream
Be still this night my wing-ed friend
Sweet offspring of the moon
and I with you will share the stars
here captured in my spoon
Be still this night my wing-ed friend
fear not the coming Sun
and I with you will share my friend
as im in need of one
Be still this night my wing-ed friend
let fears soft roll by
and I with you will share the storms
that in my teacup lie
Be still this night my wing-ed friend
as dawn doth soft now breaks
and let us now each share this space
and sleep as day awakes
Sally A Bayan · Jul 7
COFFEE, THE MOTH AND ME....
My breath smells of coffee....
Several cups
I have finished already.
This is one of those nights,
When my thoughts I have yet
To turn into verses....
They are all too shy to come out,
Refusing still, to be revealed.
While I wait for the empty cups to be refilled,
A lonely moth circles the lamp and me.
On and on, I tap my pen on the table,
Til I've scribbled something on paper.
Still, the moth goes round and round...
Circling my face, very near my mouth.
The light flickers as it wanders near.....
I wonder if it's the lamplight that calls
To the moth....
Or my breath that smells of coffee.......
Sally
Copyright 2013
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
COFFEE, THE MOTH AND ME....
My breath smells of coffee....
Several cups
I have finished already.
This is one of those nights,
When my thoughts I have yet
To turn into verses....
They are all too shy to come out,
Refusing still, to be revealed.
While I wait for the empty cups to be refilled,
A lonely moth circles the lamp and me.
On and on, I tap my pen on the table,
Til I've scribbled something on paper.
Still, the moth goes round and round...
Circling my face, very near my mouth.
The light flickers as it wanders near.....
I wonder if it's the lamplight that calls
To the moth....
Or my breath that smells of coffee.......
Sally
Copyright 2013
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
Written by
soul in torment
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