The meaning is that of nothing,
The feeling is that of emptiness,
The look is that of blackness,
The sound is that of silence.
Yet,
The Hope is that of tomorrow,
The Dream is that of no sorrow,
The Wish is that of the future,
This is what I shall capture.
Sorrow in your eyes
Towers in demise,
What an unpleasant surprise,
listening to childrens cries.
On Christmas Eve when eyelids sink and Head does Nod, I look out my window to Behold my God, On quiet Night, beneath Perfect Sky, Is time to remember Those who cry, And send out a Prayer for those Victims of Injustice and what is not ‘Fair’, those without a family With which this Night to Share, Let them know they are not Forgotten On Eve of Day ere Christ’s begotten. Those who suffer Mental illness or battle the demons of addiction and those infirmed with physical ailment or affliction give tender love and care and do not let their hearts despair, and to those who live where danger Fear and Violence reign, ease their sorrows, Woes and pain, this Christmas Eve remember those who had to leave and go up to that quiet sky, rejoice in those who live in memory of those who die, and let those who are Invisible be seen, to highest thrones lift them from shameful slums unclean, As I drift off to sleep, these secret hopes my Heart will keep this Christmas Eve I pray, let all the World behold
A glorious Christmas Day
The gull’s calls
And Sea-grass whispers
The silvery gray
of early Light
Ocean glimmers
Each wave washes
And cleans the beaches
Mournful mirages
of yesterdays sorrow.
Morning’s Song, teach me
how to live and how to die
Wind, shake my bones cold
Sea, make me Alive
Saintly clouds overhead loom
clean me and fill me as I march
Into the Sea, Into the Sea
The Morning’s Song
Original Poetry 