Restless Night

A poem inspired by the blustery nights of Autumn

Restless Night

 

The morning has just broken,

I haven’t slept a wink,

All I seemed to do last night,

Was mull over and think,

On all of those irrelevant questions,

With little answers to appease,

So I stowed away my thoughts,

Too quietly eavesdrop on the breeze,

Its whisperings turned raucous,

Causing uproar through the hush,

Screaming trees shed their tears,

Upon a tide of autumns rush,

Litter scattered on horizons,

Empty bags circled like crows,

Windows rattled in revulsion,

To the contempt the season shows,

For the night is for the sleeping,

How I longed to lay my head,

As I listened to the wind,

That left me restless in my bed,

Very soon the sun had risen,

To call the blackbird into song,

In a symphony of colour,

Ever vivid, ever strong,

Now with my hand I shield the sunlight,

That engulfs my tired eyes,

But still nomadic are my ponderings,

They drift away on restless skies.