Oh Night...

Oh night, you do not shape the silence

Like the quiet of the day

When the harvest is all gathered

And the vesper dies away

But over the mute garden

At twilight, soft you creep

And cover gilded fringes

With your garment dark and deep

 Oh night, sometimes your quiet

Is a comrade, kind and true

But sometimes it is keen and sparks

Raw thoughts of ‘missing you’

And into the still darkness

Our reminiscing bleeds

And only unmarred silences

Its want and wonder heeds

Oh night, you strip away the masks

Of bravery and pride

Beneath the cloak of quietness

We do not need to hide

Or wear for meek appearance

A calm and cool facade

Here in the folds of darkness

It is simply us and God

© Janet Martin