Finally the night air
delivers its balmy delight.
Scent of baked meadow
lingers in a delicate breeze
and the earth sighs…after a day of toil
under an uncompromising sun.

The clock still ticks
yet the world appears to pause,
bathing in this nocturnal gift.
Even old, babbling brook
halts an endless stream of bad tidings,
unable to resist the joy
that fleetingly pervades.

I smile at the moon
and he tips his hat,
having chased away
a thousand hungry clouds.
Dazzling starry displays
sing a faultless silent symphony.

Inhaling…the perfection of this night.
Countless days of grey
unable to eclipse a moment.
A spirit revived, a hope renewed.
Tomorrow is coming.

J. Price (2007)

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