When I'm alone, I think...
of many things keeping me up at night
Wonderful words waking me in the early hour
I toss and turn as they slip away, out of reach
In my dreams, sitting at the edge of the shore
Waiting for them to return to me
The wind is fierce, it hits my face and I can't breathe
The fog has come and I can't see
Where are the words that made me speak?
I can almost touch them, but they wither back to sea.
And I sit alone without my words
Without my poems, without my songs, without my speech.
I miss my words.
Come back to me...
© September 2012 Ellie Kings
Art by David Revoy
