Absolutely Miles Away …too many clouds, too little time…

rising sun

as dark shines calling mist and metal home
morphing grey-blue knitted corners into smooth night
peculiarly eerie lies the shadow on the land;
through day the colours bold under such light

glimmering moonbeam shadows softly place
a cotton touch upon the way the eve is dressed
for one can hope the burners of past midnight oils
can snuff the wick and wax and spin ever quiet yarns of rest

and past the heavy hours laced silently with dew-breath mist
a billion thoughts from sleeping minds will lilt, float and teem
twisted in airs of solitude, grace, confusion and decay
minds may conjure images
but all is all
a dream.

[it’s getting light outside…]

It’s light already. Sadly.

But the thunderingly hollow drums are rather wonderful.

they’ll keep a skiffling shuffle throughout the day and night, until it’s time once more to slowly get light…

(on the year’s longest day)