Till Morning

By Circe Avalon

The truth is only a riddle
That must be unwound and told
If the hearts are ready
The future is theirs to hold

The Darkest night comes anon
And the monsters are lurking
If the Dawn made a promise
Then there maybe a morning

In the Light is hopeful
the dawn lurks not far from here
and every breath keeps the time
Of sun gentle rays, so dear

Hold close your woolen blanket
Pray god keep you till then
And in the weakest moment
try to draw breath in again

A dance of little poets
A riddle and a fiddlers song
A season of little reason
A year that has gone by to long

Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited. Ask the author first.
© 2008 Circe Avalon
Published on Tuesday, May 13, 2008.     Filed under: "Fiction" and "Poetry"
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