The birth of day,
stillest of times.
Still, the lack of you
breaks all my best rhymes….
Blank new page
there only to fill,
but without your presence
I can’t find the very will…
The sun goes up
as it always will rise.
And I hope I’ll find
the path to being wise…
And I hope someday I’ll know
my name is no longer one you despise…
Cyranny's Cove 
Beautiful and melancholy.
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Thank you, Eleanor… Melancholy is an old time friend of mine. Sometimes, I wish I could tell we couldn’t relate. But it is fuels my vascillating inspiration 🙂 xx
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So sad, Dahling. 😥
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Reblogged this on Dream Big, Dream Often.
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A sad ending to a lovely piece.
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