midnight
By jvriesema
- 271 reads
Midnight falls across softly-lit streeetlights;
fog whispering across ghostly edifices of houses that are silent in sleep and dream;
geometry within the motion of a silent moon.
Chased by errant autumn leaves,
dreams hover and soar above the platitudes of conventional mornings
now lost amongst the eddies of the fog;
the past absorbed by silver
whirpools of mist ;
conversations like radios broadcasting in dreams
that
folllow the paths of subconcious rendering.
Moments breathe into choruses
waiting to fly amongst collective dreams that awaken mist-laden gardens.
The mist falls in love with the currents of the river
as the wind tells bedtime stories to dreamers
who are dancing in parallel dreams within the hours of the night.
The air takes a chance to breathe
succumbing to the love of the fog
as
silver lights chase the streetlamps that shine above closed shoppes;
a soft nightlight glowing with the life of errant autumn leaves.
Picasso converses with the music of brahms
amongst the dreams of lovers lost in eiderdown quilts
while
midnight falls across errant autumn leaves
like violins composing the renderings of the heart.
Matisse walks within a silent after-thought of canvases still yet to be painted;
colours
waltzing to the pages of brahm's passionate embrace.
Paper birds fly across yellowed pages lost in eddies of time
searching
through winding streams of mist to find their way amongst the collective dream
while
midnight sleeps in endless, restless dreams.
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