they are the
children of the night
creeping up
spines as stairwells puckish like
to weave a
mystery whilst their victims
lie in wait
they are the
goblins of a moon king
hiding
behind the sheetrock tempting
words from
restless mouths
while they
lie in wait
they are the
monstrous
doubts and
fears of humanity
stirring
beneath the dust ruffled complacency
while their
prey lie in wait
they are the
blissful remembrances
of lovers
tender kisses manifest
as imprints
on the psyche,
while their paramour
lie in wait
they are the
prophetic mark
of spirit on
subconscious mind
born of communion between human and divine
while their messenger lays in wait
they are the
sweet things
of a child’s
mental medication
the cookies,
milk and teddy bears
that cradle
their kind and lie in wait
they are the
children of the night,
of fragrance
and starlight
of moonbeams
and stories told
while
dreamers lie in wait
Soldiering on, this is post #4, minutes past midnight. Nevertheless a poem for the day, and appropriately so, the night as well. If you too are joining me on this journey for #NaPoWriMo I commend you and welcome your comments. If any response you make, my response you will receive. Community conversations and for us all encouragement will be found. Write on friends, thank you for your time dear readers. ~ Apryl
