Is there a light somewhere <br />That glows right through <br />This cold winter in my head <br />Where nothing dares to move <br />For fear of being eaten <br /> <br />Is there a girl who smiles <br />In a warm and ionising glare <br />Pixels carved from softness <br />To warm me in my room <br />As I fight to stay awake <br /> <br />Will she bring lemonade <br />Or a pot of tea so sweet <br />For everything that has been <br />Leaves, blowing down the road <br /> <br />Waiting for the rain <br />I stand framed in my window <br />Waiting for the rain to fall <br />Waiting for the rain <br />How I love that sound... <br /> <br />Is there a map somewhere <br />That I will find and follow <br />Would it lead me to a house <br />With cases full of unread books <br />Bound and printed with truths <br /> <br />Is there a girl who knows <br />What things I long to feel <br />Will she read those books with me <br />Their spines still strong and new <br />As we move away from the other people <br /> <br />And we'll stand together there <br />Framed in sheets of glass that laugh <br />As we listen for the poem of rain <br />Lisping it's words on a concrete stage <br />How we'll love that sound...<br /><br />B.. Alexander<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-sound-of-wilting-hours/
