Midnight Muse

Poem By Ro'in Mao

With night-hued shadows dance the silver strips
Of lovely Mistress Moon's visage ashine.
The crickets sing the fairness of her lips,
Their strings lay praise in rows out line by line.
The hushed breeze that sunlessness made cool
E'er lightly strokes the trees with loving care.
The father of the world prepares their beds of mool
And paths them soundlessly into his ware.
So thus the dark shall shroud unwary eyes
And dye their sight the shade of Death's best suit,
In doing once brought end to mankind's lies,
By snipping specious sages at their root.
The deed was swift, no sleeping beast did hear—
The wilder of the night twitch'd not an ear.

Comments about Midnight Muse

Your ability to paint a particular moment of nature is unmatched. Loved reading it. I can feel the thrill of this narrative. Thanks, Dear Poet.
One father - the sky, one mother- the earth, and we are all here.


Rating Card

4,3 out of 5
2 total ratings

Other poems of MAO

Black Cat

There once was a grunt so doubtlessly fair,
Black cats came out of his mouth with much flair.
They spread far and wide
On Earth's every side,

A Pawn's Muse

Thy bitterness, again to me it calls
With naughty fingers and so sweet a voice,
In-soaking all my heart's unsavoury galls
And gets to me enthralled—far gone is choice.

Berceuse

My darling babe,

Do not let the nightlings
Bug you again now,

Go On, O Ash

Go on, o ash—dye all thy grey,
And leave the naked wind to say
'Farewell', to sing low in the deep
A song of rest, or endless sleep.

Waiting

Waiting… waiting…
People passing…
Odours wafting...
Fading… fading…