Midnight's Gift
Tender is the night
that covers wounds
of day. Edges frayed
and split, now under
gleam of silver moon
do newer, softer seem.
Tender is the night
when stars do whisper
sing, and sparkle past
our pain, while Venus
steady shines and fawns
like velvet over chastened
skin. Tender is the night,
'bove broken world a-spin.
More poetry here: RAP: Christmas Lament
that covers wounds
of day. Edges frayed
and split, now under
gleam of silver moon
do newer, softer seem.
Tender is the night
when stars do whisper
sing, and sparkle past
our pain, while Venus
steady shines and fawns
like velvet over chastened
skin. Tender is the night,
'bove broken world a-spin.
More poetry here: RAP: Christmas Lament
Labels: dark night of the soul
posted by L.L. Barkat at
8:08 AM
3 Comments:
These words, still and somber, spark images of the night sky's deep black and piercing pin-prick stars...L.L., I love this poem! Woven throughout is a cadence that almost eludes me, so that I wanted to read it twice and than again aloud to see it better. Each repetition had me loving it even more.
Edges frayed// and split, now under/ gleam of silver moon/ do newer, softer seem.
I like that sentence a lot--both the meaning and the sound of it.
Yes, somehow life looks gentler in moonglow than in the garish light of day. Lyric truth you write, L.L. I want to sing your poem....
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