Once apon a midnight fog, while I waited anxiously amongst the croaking frogs
Watering Clover by the bend of the Old Mill Creek and nearby pond
The murky water trickled over the oil slick creek stone
The only light by lantern glowed, glistening, highlighting Clover’s ebony coat
Up until that starless cloudy night, I lived in hope, and joy, and light

            Those days are forever lost to mine

For the juncture of occurrence, there amongst the croaking frogs
By the bend of the Old Mill Creek, not far from where the children waded
Will be remembered now and ever after by all who dare to breathe
For who can surpass the sorrow leached apon the Earth from serpent’s words?
Now at that time the lantern fell, off the hook on the hickory tree

            I pray Earth shall comply for me

Contrasting shades of black is all that complied with human eye
As Clover reared her mane against the broiling, churning stratus sky
And galloped away, hooves echoing into the Arabian Night
The frogs were silenced, silenced so, that if you listened closely, ever so
The beating of a human heart echoed off the cold creek stone
            For now the creek was silenced so

A blind beggar of leprosy was a master to I
For he hath have at least a cane to guide him by
At that time I stumbled stepping, cautiously so that I shouldn’t falter
Despite my ever cautious efforts, they yielded no gain for body or soul
The levee of courage buckled to the flood of trepidation
            The heart beat on off the cold creek stone

Recollection struck, the keystone blown by mason’s chisel
Pillars of progress and continuation crumbled at Emperor’s throne
As the temple of the body crumpled into a mass
Am I not on this exodus from home sake kin to be rid!
To be rid of these demons that haunt home sake kin!
            Quoth the stone “Quite assured.”

Up I peered into the darkness, unsure if I had heard discourse
“If there be somebody out there, another soul lost within this fog,
Call again for I scarcely heard you, out there amongst this dreadful fog.”
Perspiration came to pouring, as I waited, terrified of no reply
Assurance came, after much waiting, “It’s only I, a fellow traveler lost in the fog.”
            Quoth the stone “Quite assured.”

“If you be just another meek traveler, lost in the fog,
Then where be your horse and lantern to guide you by?”
He responded, “My lantern fell, off the hook on the hickory tree”.
And, “Then my horse galloped away, hooves echoing into the Arabian Night”.
Dare I say your predicament sounds very quite like mine?
            Quoth the stone “Quite assured.”

Visions of childhood nightmares lurked in my mind
As I assured myself I was perfectly sane and not mad
Nay, mad men no not stop to ponder their own madness
Does not everyone talk to themselves when alone in the fog?
Yes, even the sanest of men talk to themselves when alone in the fog
            Quoth the stone “Quite assured.”

Does this stone from the creek bed not speak to me?
Uttering nothing but those two words, only agreeing with me?
Has this stone been possessed with the demons that haunt home sake kin?
Perhaps the same stones Goliath cursed as he fell from David’s sling?
No, only mad men stop to ponder such things as speaking stones!
            Quoth the stone “Quite assured.”

Now with new found vigor I summed my courage,
“If this be the stone cursed by ancient seas,
Apon which sailors souls now rest amongst the wreckages,
Wreckages of their maiden ships’ masts,
Then what be the meaning of it speaking to I?”
            Quoth the stone “Rest assured.”

Suddenly the light by lantern glowed once more
Placed back on the hook on the hickory tree
I, still crumpled into a mass on the ground
Too afraid to turn around, for fear of what relit the wick
Footsteps approaching closer, ever slowly closer
            The heart stopped beating off the cold creek stone