Sounds of silence

The crackling growl from the wobbly bed,

The silent moans from a groaning oven,

Tasted.

The inverted tears from scars now healing,

The forgotten scent of burnt onions,

Gone.

The last episode from a binding story,

The sunken shoulder from a head so heavy,

Loss.

The warm December nights on hills so gentle,

The fresh yellow wings from a ladybirds anthem,

Sung.

The melting taste of dark chocolate,

The simmering gaze and many questions,

Pending.

Its these that bind the sounds of freedom,

Sounds of silence, to the heart that's brings home,

Hope.

* * * 

27 December 2018

Fathers, for ladybird