711. When weary limbs in silence seek their rest,

SONNET 711
By JH Sayyar
When weary limbs in silence seek their rest,
Thoughts drift soft like leaves on autumn's breeze,
The weight of day lies heavy on my chest,
A hush descends to bid the striving cease.
The golden sun now slumbers past the hills,
Its fire dimmed beneath the twilight’s veil;
Yet still the mind, with half-reluctant wills,
Resists the dark where dreams and peace prevail.
O Tiredness, thou gentle, ghostly guest,
With lullabies of shadows in thy hand,
Unbind my soul from cares it once possessed,
And lead me where no burdens dare to stand.

For in thy arms, the sharpest ache shall fade,
And Time itself lies still, serene, and stayed.