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



Blogger RissaRoo said...

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.

Blogger Marcus Goodyear said...

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.

Blogger Joelle said...

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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