... beauty ..., ... night ..., ... poem ..., ... poems ..., ... poetry ..., ... stars ...


the sky opens her dotted
bodice to reveal space,
only to those robbed of sleep.

tonight, as the wee small
hours came and went
i stole numerous glances

at her torrid display.
my wanton mistress –
sly, tawdry, and lovely.


8 thoughts on “midNight

  1. This is a very moving poem. I like all three stanzas. You have a gift, which enable you to express your ideas in very visual ways. The ending is lovely to and unpredictable. I have only one thought, and it may not bother you as it is, but I stumbled on the cliché of wee small hours. Otherwise I think it’s brilliant. If it weren’t for Sinatra’s, Wee Small Hours of the Morning song, it probably wouldn’t be a cliché at all. Great poem, nonetheless

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