At night my mind grows tired and weak
Hardly able to link together thoughts at all
Shrinking away from realities that seek
To destroy with bitterness and gall.
At night, before midnight dreams come
I wish to possess control and extol
The ideas from daylight musings I’ve won
By virtue of poetic arts that for inspirations do roll.
At night there is no goddess to amuse
With themes of love, friendship or nature
For she slumbers with the gods, no use
To the empty lighthouse, where storms it must endure.
Copyright 7/2008
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