The light fades slowly on the horizon
like a farewell, hesitant and forlorn
and the night is born with no hurry to be night
lost in the shadows of what’s yet to be drawn

There’s something in the air, a gentle sigh
an unseen movement drifting through the trees
a secret vanishing with the breeze
perhaps a memory that never learned to fly

Words may fade
but silences still hold their weig...

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Toys, mugs and letters dress this stoney garden

In lines that would not impress a cold, gnarled sargent

Stones stagger around like crooked teeth

Adorned with names, chocolates and festive wreaths

The view is long, sprawling forever

Lost but knowing in its endevour

The living are still, smiling through their solemness 

Clutching Birthday cards with Christmas sadness

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