The Sides of Midnight


A rainy day, solemn and cool
As would be a walk through woods
When evening comes silently
To this canopy of beech and pine.

Dew drops and rain drops
Shimmer in the faded light,
Soon to be misted fog
At the stroke of midnight.

All still inside this canopy
With only an echo far away
Of one lonely owl moaning
High from branches weeping.

Swirling clouds of darkness
Fly quickly from the West,
To pull the shades of agony
Toward a fledgling morn.

Crackles of rumbling thunder,
Distant and oh so far away
Send this, the morning rain
To wash away nights pain.








Poetry by Morpheus
Read 516 times
Written on 2007-04-29 at 04:55

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