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| Journey Home Starlit fields and windswept streets, plodding ever onward, ever homeward. Moonlight painted fog, an iridescent glow, beckons the weary with open arms. Gentle breezes whisper through trees, but not a sound from this empty land. Miles pass slowly in the forest at night, as hearts grow fond for rest and warmth. A wetness in the air tells of rain not far, carried on the shoulders of northern winds. Ground rising now to meet the sky, mountains like ghosts in the darkness. Tired feet tap out a lonesome rhythm, with eyes longing for the sight of home. A silent stream now joins and follows, a welcome companion along the way. Sprinkles begin to fall, winds to sing, and winding roads go ever onward. And just as hope was but forgotten, you see the light of home not far. Copyright 2002 Patrick Sloan |
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| A Moment of Peace A flickering glow engulfs the small room, the light aroma of hickory filling the air, consumed by the comfort of a familiar chair, an open book lay forgotten upon my chest. Sounds of gentle breathing from below, a sleeping pup lay peacefully at my feet, falling raindrops dance upon the window, winds quietly sing songs of dreams to be. Embers grown low and offering sleep, at the end of day it is here I find peace. Copyright2002 Patrick Sloan |
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| Little One So precious are the times we shared, I will cherish them always. Your tiny hand in mine, the light in your eyes, the sound of your voice, you showed me love I never knew. A father could never be so blessed.... The songs we sang still ring in my ears, and the smiles, the smiles were a just reward. I thank you little one, for the time you gave me, you made your home in my heart, the daughter I always wanted. I miss you butterfly...... Copyright2002 Patrick Sloan |
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| Unless otherwise stated All Poetry,Writing and Music within this Website are all under Copyright2002 Patrick Sloan and may not be used or copied in part or in full for any reason without written consent.All Rights Reserved |
| Contact Email: [email protected] |
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| Riverchild Fair and lithe,silver rivulets dance in her hair, dark consuming eyes filled with such innocence. Gentle hearted princess,though she knows it not, such kindness of soul never given a thought. As much of the forest and river as nature itself, bathed in a waterfall of rainbows and light. The smallest of things revealing her smile, simple flowers by the riverside all she desires. Sparkling gems pool in the palms of her hands, sweet draught of the valley cascading her lips. And now off to play with a giggle she goes, refreshed by the lifeblood of that she calls home. A song in her heart wells up from the depths, as silent clouds shower her in rain from above. Glimmering mischief lay deep in her eyes, as she tosses her head in search of the sky. Copyright2002 Patrick Sloan |
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