**Two poems, unrelated except for they both have something to do with North, and both were written while I listened to a song called North. 1 is inspired by a character from a novel I'm working on, and 2 is just part of an idea that may one day become a novel, who knows.**

**Part four! And still going strong. This is becoming much more involved than I originally planned it to be (I thought, when writing part one, that it would be 3 parts only. How young and foolish I was. ;] ). But I hope that you will, as always, enjoy!**

 

**Part Three and still going strong... I wonder how many more parts it will be before the end...? Anyway, I appreciate any thoughts, and of course, Enjoy! :) **

**Happy New Year, everybody! Here is part two. I would love to hear your thoughts on this second installment. Hope you enjoy! :) **

*I was thinking about some of the characters in my new novel, when this one jumped out at me. A spy for someone evil, and yet he has a good heart and does something wonderful and self-sacrificing at the end. I wondered about why he was like that... and I guess this is my answer.*



Hush, hush little baby boy
your mama is gone, but your papa's nearby
he rocks you to sleep and sings a lullaby
hush, hush little baby boy

Bright-eyed boy, growing,
and watching him draw
the lines of the mountains that one time we saw

Chapter One.

Solitary

Did I read the stories wrong
Were all the old songs untrue
The tapestries woven, long and grand
Told endings that I thought would be
I didn't think that I would stumble
Or get lost within my feelings

Yet Love, dressed in her gown of red and white
Danced before my eyes, transfixing my gaze
Passion pushed me near her,
I took her hand in mine,
With her I danced for hours as the stars shined
Joy sweeping through me like a warm summer's breeze,
Nothing as sweet as when I kissed her soft cheek

Don’t say it was for the best
Don’t tell me it was time.
I’ve heard it all before
Don’t be like all the rest

I’ve been trying not to cry
Every time I think of her
Don’t tell me it’s OK
Don’t say that I know why

You say she’s just a dog
I say she was much more
Eleven years of friendship
Now I’m in a fog

Whenever I was sad
She was by my side
Now I’m shattered into pieces
She was my comrade

No, I must disagree
Death is not a thing of beauty
Of joy in afterlife
Death is not a thing of poetry
Of romantic notions of love
Left behind

For those who are yet alive
Death hits you like a betraying punch
Like a slip on the stairs
At the bottom of which
You look up unpleasantly surprised
And hurt
You shake yourself off
And tell yourself it’s nothing
But you’re black and blue
And in pain