by R.E. Slater
In the grey drizzled woods of fall,
When cold damp and lightless days
Fill bitter earth with numbing soul,
Come the long, dreary days of indifference,
Shutting one out, alone, to deep yearning
For a life of wonder; wonders nourishing
Writers of soul and conviction, who
Alone, fixed in mind and thought,
Wrenching emotion, defeat, frustration,
Solitaire hardships in manifest hazard.
What joy abounds are but thorny slivers
To the stabbing pains of wounded heart
When world wonders not, blithely ignoring
Gaping maw of dark crypt stretching forth
Morbid dead hands reaching up to take
Unrepentant and penitent alike, tho' dislike
Each in journey, but not unlike in social ills
Experienced, wrought of consumptive,
Unfetted ignorance of degenerate politick
Murdering soul and spirit of one-and-all.
A brighter redemption thoroughly was meant,
Yet the grave is unatoning, yea unforgiving when
Stealing a people's grey days held in lightless
Mirth, consuming very words of life and breath,
From hope of things yet to pass, sealing off
Very collected imaginations of grace, yet
Yearning fey mansions golden, colored bright,
Bedecked jeweled halls of ladened wealth, but
Wretched enterprises and testament to dying
Woods, songless fields, joyless days, broken heart.
R.E. Slater
September 22, 2021
@ copyright R.E. Slater Publications
all rights reserved
Rain in the Woods (Nature Sounds Series #2)
Rain Sounds, Woodland Ambiance, Trickling Streams
[set speakers low - re slater]
Dec 6, 2011
