Every night when the winds are hushed,
I whisper,
"Are you listening to the night?"

Every time I whisper,
I hear you whisper back,
"Are you listening to me?"

I'm so sorry,
Let me listen more,
I'd seal my mouth away for you.

Genie, genie please,
How can I be better,
Do better things?

How may I make you happier,
I thought I was doing an alright job,
But let me do more,

I think you'll like it better.

"Why do you treat me right?
talking late in the night
staring in your pretty eyes
you're so pretty, that I might
might pull up a fight
the stars above shine oh so bright
yet, I only see you far in sight
why?"

At the time of the hour
The moon brightly stood by the night sky
Peeking through the thick cloud
Shines those paths to be guided

Cold wind howling woefully
Leaf softly dancing under the tree
Looking away, far from home mindlessly
Lost, empty heart

The midnight came
With a glowing full moon
Nothing about it tame
Cascading light into my room

The world fell silent
Not a soul in sight
As if every star in the sky was compliant
In this conspiracy of the night

The peace engulfs me
Taking me into a serene state of mind
The sound of the waves of the nearby sea
Finally audible after a day of being undermined

The possibilities endless
Of what I could do with this time
With a holiday from a mind that’s always restless
I could dance, sing and rhyme

The calm lonely night
Threatens to disappear as soon as it began
And as I wake up with the sun shining bright
I wait for the midnight to come again

Remember when we’d walk through the city,
bottles in hand,
music in our ears,
mischief in our hearts.

Dropped keys.
Dropped bombs.
Got lost.
Unparallel tracks, in sync.

Remember the nights I came—
counting:
fourteen.
Freedom in a number
met me again.

Photos of you sleeping.
Drawings under my bed.
Impressed by your shape—
thick shadows.
I see you,
I think.

Searching in pockets for nothing.
An empty pocket,
my treasure.

My eyes: full.
My hand: empty.
I’ve seen the park
at night.

I am a Nyctophile.
I love the night, the darkness:
it gives me pleasure,
it gives me comfort,
it gives me peace.

In the night hours
I can hear the soft rustling of the trees,
the trilling of insects,
the gentle pad of the cat,
the bark of the fox,
the scurrying of the hedgehog
as they go about their night-time adventures.

In the night hours
I can see the the stars
glimmering above
and when the moon is risen,
I can bask in her soft, silver glow.

In the night hours
I can smell the cool air
and taste the new-formed dew.

In the night hours
all that is familiar
takes on a new persona
in the shadows.

And what secrets
hide in those shadows?

They do not bring me fear
but curiosity …

In the quiet of the night,
my thoughts are mine,
uninterrupted and unencumbered
by the noises of the day;
the clamour of voices,
the roar of the traffic,
the cacophony of daily life.

I love the night, the darkness,
it gives me pleasure,
it gives me comfort,
it gives me peace.

© 2025

There’s a family of bullfrogs nearby
Their cries rise and volley
Shimmering in mezzo-soprano melancholy
A torch song to the new moon,
Pleading her silver bloom
return to the black spring sky.