John Daleiden,
US
The
Sounds of Emptiness
She’s gone visiting…to
see her sister—
Strong scents of her presence are everywhere,
The house is filled with her passing whispers.
I walk through the rooms like a lost drifter,
My lonely heart plunged into black despair,
She’s gone visiting—to
see her sister.
Outside, her meowing cat won’t enter—
Inside, cat waits with patience by her chair…
The house is filled with her passing whispers.
Each tiny sound makes my heart beat faster—
Without
her here the house seems cold and bare—
She’s gone visiting—to
see her sister.
I switch on lights to make the house brighter
then sit alone—at
the four walls I stare...
The house is filled with her passing whispers.
I have become as mad as Mad
Hatter
Asking the Queen for tea with the March Hare!
She’s gone visiting…to
see her sister—
The house is filled with her passing whispers.
