Minds Ease
As sweepy wind blew
against my door,
A sudden ghostly chill began
to sweep the floor.
Wrapping the table leg,
I watched as it climbed;
whipping my candles flame,
I heard its whispered plea.
Rest your mind dear boy,
the pen has become weary.
Allow yourself one nights final wink,
before you become dreary.
She is all I dream of
and I write to forget her.
Rest will not put my mind at ease,
nor my heart will it please.
Copyright © John Walton | Year Posted 2014
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