Melancholy

A woebegone poet

A despondent sky

ash toned mist

settle atop the mountains high.

Thunderheads coil

Along with the wind

waltzing together

like an old forsaken friend.

This heart here

is ever most happy

when all the world

is gray and weepy.

The darker the clouds

the brighter my soul

Ideal conditions

for creativity to grow.

Emotions and stories

somehow collide

quite perfectly

with melodies inspired.

This dismal atmosphere

is fertile ground

to translate my thoughts

and my words into sounds.

Sunlight will come

back out again

Greet me with

his warm friendly grin.

With courtesy in mind

I’ll pass him a nod

while truly inside

I wish he were gone!

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