MIRROR POEMS OF THE NIGHT

-- The Night Is Young –-

John Herlihy

The night is young and so are we,

In all its darkness there before me.

Who can imagine its heart laid bare,

As it roams the dark no one to spare.

At twilight an infant in mother’s arms,

The sun fast descending raises alarms.

The lip of the horizon shimmers in pink,

The first star in the North begins to wink.

The lingering twilight has lost its appeal,

At last the pitch dark has arrived for real.

As twilight past, night is young and brave,

Who calls to account this heartless knave.

May we be bold and into its waters wade,

Its promise from the hands of God made.

-- The Night Is Old -–

John Herlihy

The night has turned old and so have we,

The aging face of night plain for all to see.

The seasons change, but night always cold,

Whatever our age, night premonitions hold.

Night’s ghost rode the wind but now lingers,

Touching all in sight with its morbid fingers.

Night creatures mysterious make their way,

As night sounds echo softly wishing to stay.

I too explored the vast mystery of the night,

Roamed in its dark corners under starlight.

The darkest hour just before dawn peeks,

In desperate pursuit of whatever it seeks.

With first light, night draws its last breath,

To sleep through the day in its little death.

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(c) John Herlihy 8 December 2018