Image from Pixabay.com
To be warm again…
A lone traveller with companion comes
Beneath sunsets blaze
Stories he must tell for food and shelter
Will curl your toes
Churchyard graves where death never sleeps
Church bells ring, candles lit
Cannot keep these souls at bay
They seek the warmth of living things
This storyteller moved on fast
Not wishing to stay where
Sun’s warmth never touches skin
His story be true or no
The cold he felt moved him on
Their stone white faces in memory stayed
As he ventured to pastures new
Where more stories await their telling…
