“ Morrows ” ~ at whirlwind pace ~

On a lifespan face,

As morrows crowd

Disturbingly close,

You see days burn

At whirlwind pace,

Giving scarce time

To warm a place,

By short day’s end,

For a night’s embrace!

“ Beyond Reach ” ~ a voice too far ~

I can scarce hear

A voice too far,

Now beyond reach

Undoubtedly fading,

Thusly I fear

I’ll find in time,

The voice that died

Must have been mine,

For shout or screech

No one appears,

Who can tell I am not here

And thus beyond reach,

Too far to see or hear!