Both were written around Christmas. I really should get down to writing moar.

"Night Air"--December 24th, 2012

Night swirling colours in the fireplace,

violet, navy, warm ember bright

the bustle, the warmth of the flames

an owl outside, the stars above he sees

in the silver light, beyond the trees

beyond the cliff, below the sparkling valley

streetlights dash on for ages


I am mundane.

No cheering crowd awaits me.

No high-tail to the sun.

The lavender fields abandoned long ago

Left to overgrow, live, wilt, with the changing of the seasons.

Still stars above, the ancient realms

Can only see and come to know

What lies between the stone walls

The lavender fields, neatly aligned

Tattered only from the changing of the seasons.

Crickets chirp just beyond the hard, stone-cold gate, their words inexplicable

No crop circles, not a single spider web

I am mundane.

There is nothing to brag

Nothing to call my own, do not expect a show.

But the dazzling breeze, the bright lights

Don't bat an eyelash. There are fields of abundance nearby.

But not here.

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