Stars pooled like milk at zenith
Coloured lights tracking across
Blinking
Deep night swallows all light
Here on the Moor
Stars pooled like milk at zenith
Coloured lights tracking across
Blinking
Deep night swallows all light
Here on the Moor
Stars pooled like milk at zenith
coloured lights tracking across
blinking
Deep night swallows all light
here on the Moor
Copyright © 2016 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Not blackpurple or midnight blue
but rose from Betelgeuse
and the diamndsharp blue of Sirius
Ruby taillights on the move
those bright green leaves
lit up by streetlights, headlights
Nights colours are many and varied
as are those of its special creatures
now behind you, ready to feed
Copyright © 2022 Kim Whysall-Hammond
The rain strikes at darkness
divorces it from the Moon
makes shining banners of the street
Copyright © 2021 Kim Whysall-Hammond
The lilies of the night
are made of many colours
all of them black
as on a Raven wing
dark iridescences
pooled in shadows as twilight fails
The lilies twist around our dreams
soaking deep and darkly
nurturing fear, sowing despair
their leaves absorb moonlight
petals gleaming drably
as midnight rises
Copyright © 2020 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Duvet deep, traitor mind fishing worries
What if, why, random fears and wretchedness
Ghosts of the day parade
Surf past on a sickening tide, clasp at my heart
Until your warm arms exorcise
Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Vibrant green swoops
thread across arching dark
curtain across stars.
Hissing over snow glazed land
Aurora, herald of the sun
our lady of the night
Copyright © 2019 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Reaching out into light from nightmare
a promise of hope
skitters against the closed window
It seems as if night has eaten my bones
I lie listless, captive
time moves sideways into morning
Daylight thickens, enters my lungs
animates and quickens
Another new day……
Copyright © 2019 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Woken by moonlight
Shafting through my curtains
I stand at the window
Breathe night air
Listen for the owl
That used to hunt
Along this street
Copyright © 2019 Kim Whysall-Hammond
The road is bejewelled with the lights of traffic
Red ribbon, white ribbon, snaking over the hills
Dark fields lie beside us as we wend our way
The villages we bypass shine stray lights to our eyes
I turn off the radio and drive in silence
Motoring into the dark, climbing and swooping
As the moon illuminates us all
I slide off at my junction taking the tight French style curve
And home beckons
Copyright © 2015 Kim Whysall-Hammond
Reblogged from 2015