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Monday, November 14, 2011

To the Night...


Night, close your dark-fringed lashes o’er the day
And tug the dazzling froth of starlight near
Ignore the hours which now in ambush lay
To leap upon the closing of a year
Oh, hold me close in somnolent embrace
Don’t ask about the teardrops on my face

Night, some would choose to count your phantom sheep
I do not care for pastimes such as this
I crave your melancholy, still and deep
The ravaging fulfillment of your kiss
Around my shoulder and my soul recline
And do not ask about these tears of mine

Night, now I lay my head against your thigh
Together we inhale the solitude
One with the symmetry of earth and sky
As nature’s very heartbeat is subdued
I don’t ask why the silence seems to cry
And you don’t brush the teardrop from my eye

Janet Martin

3 comments:

  1. Another great one, Janet. Night has always been my friend. So nice that you would pay it homage. The teardrops are only night's sweet dew.

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  2. Like a beautiful Ode. Night is the best companion that embraces us in its silence and listens our voice of solitude.
    :)

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  3. Yes, I like the night and sometimes have been known to say 'I wish I didn't need to waste it sleeping'...

    Thank-you Mike and Beyond Horizon.

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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!