Sindy ***
2 February 2017
Old Hag as I watch you sleep
Author: SindyCox
Dark is the night outside,
and bright is the night within.
Where drops of the wine, & the smoke of the fine,
have a simple & good effect.
I watch the sleep of an old poor Hag,
and I know full well she is not.
Yet is she poor? I ask you & ponder ?
Do you think she a Hag or not ?
For as a hermit sleeps,
and the quiet creeps,
I too belong in a dream that is with her.
For as a hermit is wise, and there is no guise,
but a melancholy wonder.
A wonder of old, a wonder of new,
And a wonder of joy & plunder.
It is but a dream, and it's not what it seems,
for it is but a dream come true!
For as the old Hag sleeps & the Poet speaks,
and the Crows sleep too - and it begins the dew,
a thought comes to mind of a brand new find,
and of a magic that wants to be found.
Where there is no chatter - but that of Crows that matter,
and of a joy that will indeed be found.
It is of a joy of awe, it is of a joy of courage,
It is of a joy that is well endowed.
It is of a joy that only, a Crow could bring,
on a day that is forever more.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Posted: 25 mins ago
About this poem:
This new composition is about my love that sleeps as I watch her dream & reflect on my day spent with my beautiful murders of crows.

Born in the womb; 9 before birth,
born for a tomb, to enter the dirt.
Born for a day; to roll in the hay.
born for a story, to be told some day.

Born in the womb; so what is your sign?
just count back 9; it's only time.
Born in the womb; where life began,
born to spend a night or 2; in a caravan.

Once upon a time; daylight all the time; the Moon she shone so bright; all we knew was light. There was no night; there was no sleep; there were no lies, no lies in which to keep. It was long ago, so long we forgot, we forgot to remember we are living in a clock.

And so where we perceive is ours alone to experience we can share our thoughts & ideas Anthe some we save some we loose must be because of the *****. And if it's 1984 @ 16:42 it's time for the story of poo & the dogs gone out I've finished my *** & I'm gonna put the smack dab on your ***.
And a flat plane concept.

A dark unfathomed tide
Of interminable pride—
A mystery, and a dream,
Should my early life seem;
I say that dream was fraught
With a wild and waking thought
Of beings that have been,
Which my spirit hath not seen,
Had I let them pass me by,
With a dreaming eye!
Let none of earth inherit
That vision on my spirit;
Those thoughts I would control,
As a spell upon his soul:
For that bright hope at last
And that light time have past,
And my wordly rest hath gone
With a sigh as it passed on:
I care not though it perish
With a thought I then did cherish.

Whether on Ida’s shady brow
  Or in the chambers of the East,
The chambers of the Sun, that now
  From ancient melody have ceased;

Whether in heaven ye wander fair,
  Or the green corners of the earth,
Or the blue regions of the air
  Where the melodious winds have birth;

Whether on crystal rocks ye rove,
  Beneath the ***** of the sea,
Wandering in many a coral grove;
  Fair Nine, forsaking Poetry;

How have you left the ancient love
  That bards of old enjoy’d in you!
The languid strings do scarcely move,
  The sound is forced, the notes are few.

I like to change my mind,

I'm a bat that you'll never find.

I wear my tear with it's open wound,

I'm a cat with a tormented feud.

I have fought & I fight & I battle the night.

And I am bitter with a sweet loving kiss.

I scratch & I purr & my wings are no more,

for I drown in the depths of my fur.