When at dusk the sun sets
The heart fears not
And the eyes shed no tears
’tis a sunset at noonday we mourn.
When the hen comes home to roost,
After the kitchen’s been put to use –
It finds the kitchen warm and friendly to its breast
’tis an early return that earns it a chase.
Why,
Then,
Cry to the mountains?
Why,
In ashes,
Bathe thyself?
Why echo sorrow?
Why weep like for a lost child?
This road,
Is one well travelled,
It,
Now,
Deserves some roses,
Not soiled with tears.
Shout man! Shout!
Lend your voices to the wind
Joyful sounds make,
For he who lived and died,
That all may die and live.
(c) Alan Delta ‘Grow
Alan Delta ‘Grow is a writer, Poet and Thinker. He loves his own company. He’s inspired by pain and sadness, and has been called weird.
Dnightingale 