-- THE MIDNIGHT HOUR --

John Herlihy

At midday, seemingly far away, contrived,

Lost in time, this hour no longer survived.

I go about my business feeling the bustle,

Fifteen hours to the dozen in life’s hustle.

Then twilight falls heavy, darkness sets in;

We know its coming with our foolish grin.

We feel trepidation at the midnight hour;

The clock strikes twelve with all its power.

To mark end of one day, start of another;

The future will now the moment smother.

The moment locks in midnight with ease,

As serene as the rustle of a gentle breeze.

Hallowed the holy hour that strikes twelve;

The midnight hour into our soul will delve.

- - - - - -

(c) John Herlihy 15 March 2019