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 Posted: Wed Jun 03, 2009 2:54 pm
Midnight.
Darkness and moonlight,
Spiraling spiders are spinning webs,
And many dreams soon swirl around;
The otiose attempts at fantasy conjured.
The Witching Hour
Time creeps along.
Those with sense sleep restless,
While the fools are content in their wicked slumber,
And the dreams find home in the heads of the many.
Two A.M.
Those still awake are probably the blessed.
Dreams turn to sour darkness,
Light is gone completely from the world,
For only the briefest of time.
Three, sweet three,
My heart yearns for thee,
And the wickedness subsides as my
Eyes begin to slide closed
And darkness finally takes me.
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Posted: Sat Jun 06, 2009 12:55 pm
Are you suffering from Insomnia? Very nice imagery, especially the spiders part.
I learned a new word! Otiose!
I think you misspelled briefest.
Take care,
-KK
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Posted: Sat Jun 27, 2009 12:12 pm
No, I'm not suffering insomnia right now, nor was I when I wrote that. It just came to me. And I think you're right, I misspelled briefest. That happens sometimes. I'm going to fix that right now.
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Posted: Fri Aug 28, 2009 10:53 pm
Long time no see! Glad to see there's still some people I recognize here.
About your poem: I like it. Very nice imagery and eerie as usually. Sounds like something I would want to sing to my children at night.
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Posted: Wed Sep 02, 2009 9:39 am
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