Through Dark Days
Dark days had come to block the sun,
We stumbled round the night;
Our dearest friends were all but gone,
They nearly lost from sight;
As though they turned to snowy swan,
And bound the air till day was dawn,
No comfort could we draw upon,
I miss my life with you.
To rectify my missing lot
Within the home I look;
And there I find not what I sought,
Instead a fated book;
The page intrigues me with its plot,
And lessons there are truly taught,
Far greater than I ever thought,
I’ll spend my time with you.
The first fine page came from afar
By man who rarely spoke;
But wrote with skill, I knew no par,
His words in me awoke
A thirst to read like old vicar,
From common verse, to thee bizarre,
How night became a sea of star,
I owe my spark to you.
With hunger I kept reading more
And found a lady true;
She opened up a magic door
And let me walk on through.
She introduced me to the core,
And every week we would explore,
The wonders of a world adored,
I owe my start to you.
Then turn the page and there I see
A man of skill and class;
Whose understanding how we see
To write, is unsurpassed;
The lessons that I learned from he,
As doth a seed, becomes a tree,
And deeper than the open sea,
I owe my skill to you.
Then page by page did more appear
The lessons to recall;
A Lady who could paint so clear,
Her imagery enthrall;
And southern bell, from Odin’s ear,
Each subtle sound she’s bound to hear,
And Irish lass, who comes to cheer;
I owe my style to you.
Then night began to slowly fade
About the first of May;
I ventured to the open glade,
To see who’d cast the grey;
And there beheld my hero’s made,
No words have ever true conveyed,
How in the darkness they did aid,
I owe my soul to you.