Winter Chill

H. Ray Davis

My years have made me weary. I know neither love nor hate and all romance has lost its flavor.

The notes of would be lovers fall flat on my ears.

A ray of sunshine and a place of comfort feeds my soul.

A warm blanket knocks the chill in the winter of my life.

The struggle with your own mortality can drain the art from your imagination.

As for me, the fear of becoming useless paralyzes me.

I long to slumber under the shade of an old tree.

 

HR Davis

  • Author: H. Ray Davis (Offline Offline)
  • Published: January 27th, 2021 13:48
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 27
  • Users favorite of this poem: A Boy With Roses
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Comments +

Comments4

  • FredPeyer

    Ray, you express that feeling well, but as for me, there is no fear, only opportunity!

  • Jerry Reynolds

    Well written Ray. Stay Safe.

  • Goldfinch60

    Useless you are certainly not, your words show that light can be in your life and will be there for you.

    Andy

  • L. B. Mek

    'As for me, the fear of becoming useless paralyzes me.
    I long to slumber under the shade of an old tree.'
    reads raw and touch-sensitive - immersive,
    worded very relatable
    you have a wonderful gift dear Poet



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