dread the autumn of my years when summer
And balmy breezes haunt my room by
pushing drapes aside
To whisper nightmares in my ear with warm
and sultry breath—
Then drift away in light of day
Like harbingers of death.
It was upon a night like this not very
I stood in contemplation of the
courtyard far below;
My restless mind could not ignore the
passing of the breeze,
As dry leaves swirled, decayed and
Amongst the dying trees.
I cast a prayer against the sky beseeching
It echoed back and reassured my soul
the Lord would keep;
And so I paced the weathered floor of my
The creaks and groans of age bemoans
The passing of the night.
"Enough!" I cried in
fearful rage. "Before all reason
I must escape this wretched trap
from which my sleep evades."
So from my nightstand I retrieved a heavy
Within a drawer which fits a door
Few others ever see.
The mechanism of the lock protested my
But fell aside with rusty shrieks,
removing all preclusions;
Lifting high my bedside lamp, I climbed
the spiral stairs—
Though nearly blind, I vowed to find
Diversion from my cares.
The narrow steps abruptly end outside a
Where ideas flicker in delight and
wisdom cuts the gloom;
On sturdy shelves around the walls, my
cherished books were spread,
Crammed with notes and borrowed
But mostly still unread.
My senses started spinning from the churn
of twisted plots,
The lure of musty leather and the
tang of virgin thoughts;
I scanned the volumes carefully deciding
which to keep—
What might I find to ease my mind
And coax my soul to sleep?
I saw within my lofty reach an abstruse
book of verse
Espousing deep philosophies in which
I could immerse;
As I reflect upon the mire my truth is
These words impart the poet's heart
But speak not of my own.
Undaunted by my failed attempt, I search
the shelves again
And found upon a gritty shelf the
crude affairs of men,
Where justice flew on angry fists and sins
repaid in kind—
A darker place, devoid of grace ...
A place best left behind.
Perhaps a romance could entice my passions
to be stilled,
But found amongst the pages
Stories steeped in pleasure and distilled
like hemlock tea—
My heart denies those lustful lies
Of love which cannot be.
I settled in to search all night when
something caught my eye—
A glint of gold beneath the dust of
something shelved up high;
It was the Bible I once loved, neglected
since my youth—
I dared to peek and thereby seek
God's everlasting truth.
I found a gentle wisdom no mere human
A righteous sense of justice in
which virtue can survive,
The love and peace the Lord bestows on
aging fools like me ...
I searched no more, secured the
And threw away the key.