The Weather (Adeolu Timothy)

The breeze blows,
The weather whitens,
The leaves dry,
The ground patched.
The looks appear dead,
It's only an eve before the life.
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It darkens,
And gets sleepy,
A break
From daily toiling,
Back to base,
Alone with thoughts,
I need a soul,
Who'll hear my thinking?
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The quill,
My companion,
The only ear,
That hears my tone.
Loner I appear,
Deep down a nova,
So much to say,
But right now it's over.
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Well deserved,
A night of sound sleeping.
Toiled the day,
A hustle for better living.
Time to retreat,
A reload for better ideation,
Time to go,
The deep keeps calling,
Though asleep,
The mind yet working.
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Fhysx  © 2015