Grey gloomy and beautiful The sound of rain and tin. Smokey scent and tree tops The little birds still sing. Cool crisp and twilight Rain drops steady drum. My mind so ever peaceful I won't wish the rain to stop.
O the mighty god of sleep Put your gentle hand on my head while I am turning and tossing in bed My eyes are red All most dead Fed up of this moon which promised me to come soon Room is what laughs at me Night asks, "Where is she?"