Whereis your silent night song ?
Black swirls on the frozen snow flakes.
Enrapture the feelings of the moment.
Capture the eternity of time.
Ride the high mountain silence.
Decend into the bowls of perdition.
Scratches of passion in the twilight.
Stolen thoughts from anceient lore.
INKHORN - refill as time before.
Birds that peck on knowledge door.
So INKHORN - refill as before.
Pages of snow flakes fill the floor.
BUT, not a word as before.
Passages mark the itchings of GOD.
Readings from the INKHORN, opens doors.
[from 8hop 2007 ] POEWHIT