The Night Is A Blanket
The night,
A blanket upon the evening so mild,
A time to know which star is mine,
Amid the consternation so infinite,
That each one,
Upon my eyes gazeth.
A delusional moment,
That last a mind at large.
The moon will merge the light,
And make the sparkle a wonder,
Then we mourn the horrors of the day,
Then again our minds open like a foyer,
To foster the delight at the evening arrival,
A cross section of light,
With diluted colors,
Across the face of the dusky sky,
That's her star,
Right above my head, i guess.
The lullabies,
Not so far from ages tongue,
Mama would rhyme to the nursery boy,
Till the nightly ghost takes away his soul,
Earth is spherical,
Spins from ages to ages without a pause and a seize in pulse,
Life is replica,
But dancing every day to the tune of destruction,
The dirge of a life not seen.
When the moon shines,
Many souls is at peace,
A pensive state not to be uttered,
Because, the night is a blanket,
Under where our daily past is nurtured.
poem by Folayemi Akande
Added by Poetry Lover
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