London Poem: Day 129

24 December

To get away,
To slip into the unseen,
Among the tip of swaying
Trees, burrows into the heart
As the sound booms so no
One can hear the call.
We are in time, and without,
The season wrapping into our
Soft touch.
It’s as though I’ve been no
Where else, and never dreamed of it.
So, let the night slip on
And carry us for a thousand more.

Advertisements

Published by

keelancrampsey

In flux

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s