This is my work that I’ve begun
Raspy hands and sore back
Set the tone for my inner heart
Mending this land as best I learn.
Wood’s been slung
Blocked and chopped
Stacked all up for winter’s dry
Cows are fed, so too the goats
That call out now to greet my cheer.
So then come the neighbours who
Have each their own spread
Landing as they do
Amidst the green atop the ground
Growing as the earth’s own.
This is my work that I’ve begun
Recollected by the stone hearth
Fired and warm, and dinner’s on
Longest night, shortest day.
Tag: sore
Sad Letters at Long Lasts Door (day 1023)
Did my letters long convince your soul
That all was lost amongst our hearts?
Pleasure drained upon the floor
And my eyes sore, my eyes are sore.
Balance shifted which throws me off.
What once was art is burning hearts
To leave me scarred, aghast; true horror.
And my eyes sore, my eyes are sore.
Like laughter in wicked eyes of crows,
It shelters me not, my sorrow cloak.
And fill my heart with dust and sand
And my eyes sore, my eyes are sore.
To wake again my soul at long last,
To deliver my forgiveness upon deaths door.
You were never mine, but I cared evermore.
And my eyes sore, my eyes are sore.
