Night Write Against the Dawn

She cannot live her day out loud
and nightly trods her dark and hollow tomb
holding silent vigil
for a swiftly dying soul
and pen in hand
in desperate measure
she writes for her life
if not sanity at least respite
as each scene that never was is a moment
true upon the page as the words flow
soldiers marching cadence
across each pale blue line
in desperate foray an
assay against encroaching dawn.

© Perle Champion 07/07

Listen

sometimes in the evenings when
everything is still
with nothing but the sound of
wind in trees, and the call of birds is
faint and far away,
ideal thoughts fill my mind
pipe dreams of many things
of love and life and
wondering
where I’m bound.
flights of fancy tickle
my brain
spin me around with never
a sound
in their coming and only
a trace in my memory when
they’re gone.

© Perle Champion

New Year's Reflection

Old ‘n’ gray – tired ‘n’ worn,
many died – more were born,
much was said – so little done,
with the rising ‘n’ setting of each sun.

Farewell to thee with tears we say,
and greet the new with laughter gay.

A million things – could, should
would have been done;
but alas, we’d just started and
the year was gone.

And so we make firm
resolution
to do much more by next year’s
conclusion.

© Perle Champion