Murray, UT, USA
With Pen In Hand
One eve, I sat, with pen in hand,
And watched the setting sun.
The warmth and light of day were o'er;
The cold, dark night begun.
As if to emulate the sun,
My heart had also set.
My aching soul was filled with pain,
And bitter, sad regret.
One night, I sat, with pen in hand,
And stillness all around;
For darkness, with its ebon throat,
Had swallowed every sound.
I felt the blackness permeate
My very heart and soul;
It stole away my hopes and dreams,
And left a gaping hole.
One morn, I sat, with pen in hand,
And watched the sun arise.
Its warmth dispelled the chill of night;
Its brightness filled my eyes.
The hole within me mended, now,
My spirit filled with peace.
From dark despair, the radiant sun
Had swiftly brought release.
Now, even in my darkest hours,
I think about that night,
And how my blackest fears were stilled,
By morning's golden light.
This shining mem'ry gives me hope,
And strength to carry on;
For, shades of night, however dark,
Must flee before the dawn.
-Troy J. Hoecherl-
© Troy J Hoecherl
All Rights Reserved
Beautiful, Thought-Provoking Poetry