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Somber Moments

Somber moments are spent here in this everlasting exile, place of my thoughts and my dreams,
Occasional breaths like softer tones whispering in the damp hollowness of my church yard calling,
Speak to me of you, the many purchased, those of soft grace, naivet�, those of my soul it seems,
Those chasing after me, those who would comfort me, those who would catch me when I'm falling,

There are many gifts inside this threshold, beyond the holy cloud's bursts breaching my door path,
While on the inside I sit in the wafting fog of amber shaded darkness, pitching my new drawn verse,
Assembling, resurrecting, embracing the values of the many throated hints born of anxiety and wrath,
Against a night lit dimly outside my window - in a courtyard filled with shadowy darkness and worse.

Here where Angels dance nearest my fire, I form poems in the night, and chance words into sonnets,
All tenderlings meant to inspire.

Thom Douglas Carlisle ( Irish Tommy Moran ) - Ireland

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Very nice, it gives one cause to stop and reflect upon their own life.

Shel,

Yes I agree. Stopping always to reflect is a necessary essence. Your so right.

Thanks, my warm, kind friend,

tommy boy / Ireland

I see in this your sacrifice and solitude which allows you to steep within your poetic verse. May an Angel burst the amber fog and sit by your side.

Be well, my friend.

Tul,

Ye shine with grace here in my quiet room.

Thank ye,

tommy boy moran / Ireland

Thanks, Tommy boy. Leaving in the morning. I'll miss you!

Tul

Tul,

Be safe. Be well. See ye when you return.

tommy boy moean / Ireland

PS: Catch me some fish.

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