The Lanterns. Poem by Peter Vealey

The insects fumble and bob along.
Bumping blindly through,
The clear but black night.
Inside the world is resting.
Whispering, silently, carelessly,
Where is the day?
Is it amidst the wavering leaves?
Of a windless evening?
Of summers` tentative breezes.
Amidst the darkness unseen?
The glow worms keep on bumping on,
Scouring, searching,
The lanterns of the far-off town,
Are crying in the midnight air.
Whining, shining in the watery haze,
And timeless moments.
Spent on dazzling heights,
Then darkness once more.
The lonely road before you.
With the hometown desperately far away.
Lost in the mingle
Of homes` sweet thoughts.
Worried smiles, sleeping miles.
The impatient trials,
The cursed blaspheming,
Scattered to fall in the starry night,
The Polar Star,
Guides the Shepherd home,
Or is it the lost sheep now?