Lillian hosts dVerse poets pub where she’s serving quadrilles till sunrise.
dark cloud
gathers
over house,
heavy weight
of self-pity
settles in;
crawls into
bed with
depression to
brood sombre
mood;
unsettling
helpless inhabitants
who desire respite
but cannot
escape
shadow of
“woe-is-poor-me”
midnight feeling
…unless
faith dawns
miraculous
at sunrise.
a poem in my pocket 
Jun 12, 2025 @ 12:59:11
Lynn, “crawls into / bed with / depression to / brood sombre / mood” really captures for me the heaviness that spirals inward. I feel the quiet tension building all the way to that glimpse of hope at sunrise.
~David
Jun 17, 2025 @ 08:45:53
Thank you so much, David…I’m glad you could feel it.
Jun 17, 2025 @ 11:25:42
🤗
Jun 06, 2025 @ 17:10:09
i understand this too well.
Jun 07, 2025 @ 07:57:55
I’m sorry for your difficult experience, Sara…hope you are healing.
Jun 08, 2025 @ 18:42:56
Thanks, Lynn.
Jun 05, 2025 @ 11:07:10
Well…I can relate to that..very nicely done.