Whispering Fatigue
I tell myself those
Golden love enchanted days,
Must apt be atoned
In these lonely hours of murk,
But this leaden lethargy;
Oh, how I hope it
Can be whispered away, cost
Is more than I can
Willingly pay, no bargain
Did I sign, “Were you ever mine?”
Ah, you, you, you; love
Surrendered to malfunction,
Varying degrees,
When the me you wanted in
Myself was impossible
To locate through storms raging,
Love remains, all else, out of time.
© Jo Ann J. A. Jordan
My apologies for the lateness, I was out with Alex awhile, and the whole day has been low-energy. Funny, because I got eight hours of sleep. The preceding two weeks, I have been running on a count on one hand nightly.
Sleep and I have a very odd relationship.
I hope all is well with each of you and that you are finding ample time for creativity.
All those trees fell on their own, the woods around here are left to their own devices.
May blessings find you.
Haphazard Creative 