The Dubious Poet Collection


Curtains drawn as night unfolds.
The future whispers what it holds.
And yet with fabric over glass.
The outside world can seem to pass.

Jam the door that was ajar.
To make the mundane world seem far.
These walls, your castle and your keep.
A sanctuary in which to sleep.

But then a home is so much more.
That treasured world behind the door
Whether it be grand or small.
These island refuge’s serve us all.

A place to pace and plot and plan.
Where as humble thoughts our dreams began.
A case of calm and conscious care.
Which you will not find everywhere.

Through the walls the world still turns.
the candle of your sanctuary burns.
A waxy puddle in the light.
Evidence of sweet respite.
So off we charge into the bright.
The candle grows again by night.

View original post


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s