Misty Eyed

Through tunnels of despair I race
Only to come out to see the cloud
That has swallowed the green I love
The sinewy contours of the land
Now seem like they never were.
Just a vision in my mind.
It lifts in parts, in small waves
The tease of the natural kind
But cruel are its intentions
As it merges into my grey frown.
Cold, still cold, it’s been too long
Since the kiss of warmth’s been felt.
The sloth of heat, of passionate feat –
The ground is too wet for such a leap.
Still I see the water swell
Seeds of future growing well
Under the terra of firmament
Lies the verda of my content.
And soon to be released (with hope I say)
Before the circadian Will stakes its claim.

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