This poem I write

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This poem I write

This poem I write 
should had been writen where it is I stand
but this was and is a place to dark to write
but I had writen everything in my mind
I didn't see what the sky holds 
I didn't listen to the cries of the birds
where I sleep 
where I dream 
isn't aplace anyone would like to be
in my darken room is the chimney 
where the old logs burn 
aplce where I didn't sip on tea
but aplace where I do scream
Oh, I see the cat eyes staring back at me
like glass clear windows
trying to tell me something is coming my way
where more rage of storms anger
the wind is on high pitched
my shattered heart skipt a beat
I hold my silence 
I inhealed my words
this morning brought on more rain and pain
the cold drops reached deep into my soul
with a welcome hands
I know I will soon have to take my stand
to what it is that hides in darkness
I look for the light in those ancient cat eyes
but all I could see or hear are the swift spit words 
like secrets from an ancient time
that hold a rhyme that touched my tongue
the more I look I could see a black fire 
that burns deep into the eyes of the night
that makes me want to cry another time
where noble ghoste of long ago 
watch and wait to see my faith
Oh, what deep secrets the speak while I sleep.

Poetic Judy Emery

Copyright © | Year Posted 2017

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