"September Morning" a poem by Leslie Pressley

Awake and rise to the serenade
outside beyond my window sill,
morning awaits with hints of Autumn falling near.
Crisp air awakens the senses
sweeping over me like a refreshing mountain stream,
the burnt leaves of Summer soon falling
onto the sleeping soil,
it waits for September to bring relief,
just as we also wait, we look up in anticipation,
Are we asleep?
Signs everywhere, the air drifts about with alarm,
like the chilled Autumn air about us, it warns of what's to come.
Our freedoms being burnt up in the heat of the enemy,
while the leaves of Summer fall,
look up, do not fall asleep...

Silence in the Shadow

Gray, broken, contrite am I,
as I follow your life so close behind.
Wrapped in a darkness,
engulfing my form.
A shadow of mystery out of the light born.
Always a step behind you,
I try to keep up...
tracing your steps, I chase you,
it's you that I love.
My condition keeps me trapped,
a distance apart,
longing to reach you,
needing your heart.
Silence in this shadow,
I hide and wait...
never knowing why my existence
and what becomes my fate.
I want to walk with you,
in the light of the day.
As long as I am a shadow,
I cannot find my way.