THE STILL OF THE NIGHT BY FIONA CUMMINGS

THE STILL OF THE NIGHT BY FIONA CUMMINGS
In the still of the night
Where the bats are in flight
The owls tweet their tunes
The spicy fragrance of sleepy blooms
In the cobalt, dusky evening
The stars form a pattern
As if they are leading
Animals to their paddocks
The geese are grieving
As they sing their mournful song
The doves are chasing habits
As they fly along
Hunting for their supper
And sleeping ducks lay still
In a cooling river
A breeze blows a chill
as the night becomes so still
all houses are in darkness
not even candles flicker
a gentle draught whispers
as the night closes its curtains
there is one thing certain
the sky shall kiss the stars
and no matter how far
we will see the magic of the night
a red sky, shepherds delight
how blessed those are
to whitness the still of the night

© Fiona Cummings