Doing Battle

Little is the sleep of those wrought of heavy mind.

Flagstones line the darkness of this ancients walk in time.

Positive emotions do constant battle with negative scenes.

Hope flutters within the soul as darkness attempts to steal tomorrow’s dreams.

Death is a sleeping visage that doth ever creep.

Children’s children amongst this unknowingly weep.

Darkness often rules in placid lives unknown.

Laughter glances on whitewashed dreams and are soon gone.

The light shines; the aroma hopes gingerly climbs.

Ready, oh ever ready the question in spirit looms.

Peace be still my soul for tomorrow is mine, tomorrow is held on angel wings in forever’s eternal time.

J. Allen Wilson © 1/20/2011