Like Gentle Rain

Long have I waited beside still waters
Withered by the years, the silent tears
Fall like gentle raindrops amid the summer sun
Hollowed how am I humbled
Weathered by storm
No Meade to mend
No bow to bend

On barren soil I stand barefoot
How small am I beneath the sky
Sometimes I think, but to wonder why
My withered hand before my eyes

My tired limbs and withered bones
No place to rest to call my own
For long are the days and cold are the nights
Beneath the seed of these city lights

Like gentle rain, a simple man
Within my wake, for here I stand
As the crimson leaves of bottle brown
Fall around me upon the ground

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| Poetry 5 | Poetry 6 | Poetry 7 | Poetry 8 |

| Poetry 9 | Poetry 10 | Poetry 11 | Poetry 12 |

| Poetry 13 |

Copyright © Darryn John Murphy