P.S -there is supposed to be a break every two lines but unless I upgrade this blog, I will never be allowed stanzas (boo hoo)
This blackberry darkness turns faery ghost white,
And the dawn shakes the dust off the cold hungry night.
And the demons and goblins and witches agree,
And the moon rising up and the sun setting down,
And the black of the evening comes in with a “BOOM”
And the thousands of eyes coming into the town.
Little lakes leave their poise and their placid overlay,
Stretch out hundreds of years to the rock and the bay.
And I ponder, beside these, on rocks by that pool,
Near a thunderstorm’s clash when the morning is cool
And the summer’s awaiting to pick and be plucked,
Int his vast open world, there the baskets are tucked
And in Summer when hotter the juice of a fruit,
Set to sonnet and music and Zither and Lute
And the blueberries blue, and the blackberries white,
when they crush, when they melt, leave unturned in the light
And in Swarthering winters, they wither and die,
Left to moan in the cabins, to yearn and to cry
But their songs never cease, in the cabins they frost,
And in frozen young Winters the berries are lost.
Copyright 2013 Golden Star Poetry