Untitled

A wilting soul sings where it lies,
My heart beating between the sighs.
Twilight dying; withered brow.
The long sleep dawning now.
How the ache would be sung,
From one blessed to die so young.
Looking back on years to be,
What I thought these eyes would see.
Look forward to what has been;
The times I wish I had again.

Nothing speaks back from the chill,
The falling leaves are holding still
In the air with flakes of snow
That have no earth on which to go.
All is stars and all is shadow,
The tides of sealess shores now flow.

The dead still tempt me with their sleep,
I know their peace and still I weep.
I call your name in the tomb-choked air,
But you will never greet me there.
Past horizons, wind and rain,
Will I see my love again?
A blooming rose within the sun,
Farewell to my lovely one.

© 2018 Marten Hoyle