SEPTEMBER POETRY

AFTER THE RAIN

By

Ian Stewart Black

A rain that’s long abated –

Brought the amaranth to bloom.

Can it be hope against all reason –

To believe some light eludes the tomb?

Tell me love will never die.

Is all divinity a ballad –

To be squandered in the dying breath,

Or flourish in some elegy:

Some sigh that weathers even death?

Tell me love will never die.

TO MY LOVE

By

Ian Stewart Black

The Night: the symphony of silence –

Beckoning to eternity;

A shroud to all things commonplace.

Shadow of the brazen Day, her –

Luminous vibrancy distilled –

‘Til all that’s left is wonder.

The Night: asylum from the storm,

Succour to the ever-yearning soul –

And home to all that ought be seen.

Precious and endless, both.

The Night: demure and pallid light –

That renders all things beautiful.