Poem: Morning sad mourning

Whiskers among the blades of grass
The dampness of the morning
The dew gathers without
The day has come to pass
And I am left still mourning

The grey soaked fur begs for food
The coolness of the morning
The sun rises gently
The day is now subdued
And I am left still mourning

Purring warmly by a toasting fire
The lateness of the morning
Shadows on the wall
The day lies without desire
And I am left still mourning

Poem: Waking

The mist of morning cloaks the field
The dead of calm
The blackness of the night

The dawn of day breaks gently
A faint glimpse of fear
The greyness of the night

The faces of dreams dance away
The terror of the dark
The sickness of the night

Memories of mistakes go slowly
The hand it holds on
The stillness of the night

The song of birds call onwards
To brave another day
The bleakness of the night