Gales wake demons - those the darkness bring
those that under beds; hide
horrors which in shadowy corners; lurk
all are woken
the gales unsettle
beasts of distorted imaginations
gales howl through telegraph wires
fight with trees - their branches stripped
garden fences tossed aside
bang side-gates and doors of sheds
swing the signs of public houses
windows under total attack
will the latch hold tight?
will the panes of glass survive?
there
lying - rigid
cold
amidst an emotional overload
amongst the troubled thoughts that those 'wee small hours' bring
as the clocks hands slow to a stop
feeding time to anxious minds
thoughts dragged away to corners dark
blankets which as children protected
now fail to settle a troubled
adult
mind - which now
no-longer able to comfort
to reassure
just drifts away
drifting
drifting
in
and out
of sleep
drifting
drifting...
...until sleepy eyes open
and the curtains flung wide
to the calm of another day
to see a world still there - and see that now
all is well
