THOUGHTS OF A POET IN THE RAIN

THE SHADOWS OF THE MORNING LIGHT

Copyright 2012 Gordon Kuhn

Poet in the Rain Productions

Sure t’is the morning of regrets

When memory doth not forget neglects,

And stabs the soul with a cutting stone,

And one finds they are all alone

Sure t’is a fine tormenting day

When memories come that should not stay

And pain fills the gutters deep

And the mind needs rest but canna sleep.

Sure t’is a hollow empty place that lingers in my life

And all about and there within I find a potent strife

That canna leave the peace alone

And hangs and falls as a heavy stone.

Sure t’is a haunted place I farewell go

And live as if the life were planned to be so

And yet the morning comes without delight

And I see my mirrored face anew,

in the shadows of the morning light.

May 5, 2012