O night, thou art so


Forgiving n




Inky smooth as silk, all engrossing

Encompassing all the doings of daylight

Saying nary a word of dismay nor a murmur

Shielding lovingly, equalizing, sans a demur


Tiny beacons of light akin to diamonds in the sky

Lend a kind of pizzazz to the murkiness of the night

Owls lend voices and create a liveliness of sorts

Co-mingling, creating a fabric of sheer delight



The hush of the night is quite soothing, like balm

On a bruise, even overworked ears get a respite

That is well earned from the happenings of daylight

Filtering, sifting and co-relating all the day’s sounds



Under the blanket of velvety soft night, a summation

Is arrived at in the mind’s eye, the information all stored

Neatly into the hard disk of memory, to ruminate over as

Needed, while we eagerly prepare to face yet another day!


O night, thou art so


Forgiving n



And the night shall be filled with music, and the cares, that infest the day,
shall fold their tents, like the Arabs, and as silently steal away.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
1819-1892, American Poet


Night’s deepest gloom is but a calm; that soothes the weary mind:
The labored days restoring balm; the comfort of mankind.
Leigh Hunt
1784-1859, British Poet, Essayist







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