The Still Of Night.
The darkness of night gives our thoughts flight. Whilst others dream, things aren't what they seem.
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The darkness of night gives our thoughts flight. Whilst others dream, things aren't what they seem.
Her whiskers were like long, slender silk-threads, And her fur was a long black cloak. Her paws were like delicate snow-flakes, And her tail was a wisp of smoke.
Closer it creeps This feeling that never sleeps. It's bundled up within Burning beneath the skin.
Breathing in the ice cold air, With frosted glass for eyes, Smoke and rain and midnight tear, Apart my soul, my soul's demise, It kills me with its passion, And it kills me with its flame, And it...
The dark shapes dance across the pavement as they shift and bend around the warm glow of the street lamps.
The water in the pond next door sounds like giants urinating. The aeroplanes flying by sounds like goblins cheering on football matches.
Sleep with a cloud under your head. With the sky as your bed. With the stars in your sight. When you stare in this dark night. There is this light. Coming from the moon. You will fall asleep soon.
There is a chill in the air, I feel it on my cheek... A little darkness, so timid and meek... It touches me on my face...gently caresses my hair... Cradle my head between palms of care.
[One last poem before bed. Sleep tight Opuss - Tomorrow I'll be going all Shakespeare on your ass...that and a minimalist piece about missing children.