Fermented Wood Poem by Alexander Thompson

Hear the hushed and muffeld tones,
of silence creeping through the stones,
of bare feet clapping through a muddeld street,
the night creeps on and never peaks,
and though i lay my head to sleep,
my lullaby of you will seep,
into my heart and steal my soul,
where ravens often wander,
and through that dappled foggy wood,
where moss is soft, and wood ferments,
youll find the roots entangled and entwined,
amoungst my treasured things,
and as is time thats long forgot,
and be it here or be it not,
it sits amoungst the grey,
so keep it safe and ever clear,
so dreams are close but not too near,
and push and pull with no regret,
for love is life least i not forget.