Is she a dreaded swarthy jetclad tormentress

with swirling inky cloak

and train of spirit followers,

vampires, goblins,bogles, demons,

all evil preying creatures?

In her clutching talons we endure

agonies of doubt, remorse, despair, regret,

when tears and anguish overcome.

She brings nightmares of terror, loss and violence

with sleepers longing for releasing dawn,

unable to find rest or solace in her pitiless grasp.


Or is she benevolent in a sheilding starry veil,

spreading welcome relief

in friendly luminous moonlight, allowing us

to rest tired bones and forget

our daily pains and woes?

Giving dreams of blest oblivion

letting us bask in our fantasies

of what will never be?

In her arms we meet the loving faces

of those who've left us lonely,

in a consoling embrace.


She is both.


◄ Regrets

Bureau'rats ►


jennifer Malden

Sat 23rd Mar 2019 19:12

Thanks (albeit belatedly!) to Jon, Vautaw and Jason for the likes and kind comments. Agree with Jason that the night is friendly, although there always seems to be a sense of expectancy somehow, as if we were waiting for something to happen. Not necessarily bad or good.

Thanks again. Jennifer

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Thu 14th Mar 2019 22:51

Beautiful, haunting, poetic delight. ?❤️

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Jason Bayliss

Thu 14th Mar 2019 14:38

That, Jennifer, is one of my favourite poems ever. Even the title. I've always regarded night as a friend, of course in Britain that's easy enough as we have no large natural predators, (except of course for other humans), so the night is a comforting, warm summer blanket and a crisp, cold winter breath at your ear.

J. x

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