Silence stills the early hours, <br /> silent is the voice. <br />Quiet stills the storm within, <br />quiet formed by choice. <br />Unseeing eyes that scan the stars, <br />unfeeling hands that clasp. <br />Unending thoughts that slowly dance, <br /> from solaces soft grasp. <br />Shallow is the breath that's cast, <br />gentle soft and measured. <br />Pensive conjured thoughts appear, <br />from memories, old and treasured. <br />Questions asked, answers sought, <br />from angels on the wing, <br />Silence still takes pride of place, <br />Grace hallows, everything.<br /><br />Laurie hill<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/silence-325/
