Song
It was at the brink of dawn the blackbird picked up the song a nightingale had left behind when night …
It was at the brink of dawn the blackbird picked up the song a nightingale had left behind when night …
It is not until the night arrives, the world will come to a halt, when in the realm of darkness …
The book has closed on us, we have lived the last chapter. Here in the solitude of my room, alone …
It is just a speck of yellow to be found in winter grasses, just a little flower, no more, yet, …
Beneath the storm gray sky in wind’s caressing embrace whirling on the beat from waves just the gulls to watch …
In this open, outstretched land my thoughts fade away in silence with the whispers of long grasses to flee with …
The full moon casts silver on the rocks, a lone wolf howls; bouncing off the mountains only the echo answers.
Ring around the moon misty hues of starlight a feline’s midnight tune breaks stillness of night.