Midnight- A Poem


Anyone else a night owl?  Midnight is my happy hour. (Happy for the sake of happy, not alcohol.)  I love the stillness, the feeling of cool darkness.  Yes, I am an odd one. 😉

This one came from a sudden burst of inspiration.  Yes, I just read Phantom of the Opera, which greatly influenced the poem.  And a poetry assignment I had to do for English, except that it didn’t have to rhyme.  I liked the phrases I used so much, however, that I decided to put them into a more tradition poem.   Enjoy!  


Like a violinist lost in the whisperings of the trees,
Like the cloaked phantoms that no one sees,
Like a rich chocolate, and a dark red wine,
In a wooded glen, where only the moon will shine.

The ticking and bonging of the clock,
The muffled footsteps of a stranger on a walk,
The burnt stumps of candles of wax,
And the white stag that leaves no tracks.

The silky brush of cold air,
The music fading to somewhere.
Midnight, midnight, toll the bells,
As is calm, and all the wells.


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