ways of world
fly much too high
for me
… sometimes
I can't conceal
and feel
I can’t go on
take one more step
breathe one more breath
fight one more fight
sigh one more sigh
cry one more cry
taste sour grapes
over and again
I go
… step softly
cross the ledge
to wistful summers
of yesteryear
… then quote Shakespeare
"to sleep perchance to dream"

… oh
circled eyes
can see
proverbial beds
all made
by me
to sleep
and so I will
but
must I suck
this bitter pill
and hold the tongue
at idle
with so much
upon my plate?

… oh
this Irish heart
does hear
the banshees howl
and moan
into
the wind
yet child
within
keeps holding vigil
… as droplets
fall upon
wee praying hands
that try to raise
the candle high
commandeering
faith
that hope
in dreams
not be
extinguished

weary child
within
… it’s time
to lay your head
in solitude
… it’s time
to tuck all
toys from days
gone by
and leave
the nest of mother bird
to sojourn
to the higher plains
where fields
of green
await

… oh
can’t you
feel
the healing hand
reach forth
to softly
wipe a frown
from furrowed brow
to now
unfold horizons
and to sow
… much deeper meaning
than the paling
casing round
once youthful glow

... now soar!