Nightsong

Dusk is approaching and encroaching sounds
are finding their way in the air.
When the moon appears in all its glory
the sounds are everywhere.

The crickets chirping, the bullfrogs burping
and locusts that never cease
seem to be singing their night song
as all their sounds increase.

They swell and reach a crescendo
but still can lull me to sleep.
And as the moon drifts away
their song gives way to the day's keep.

poem by Edwina ReizerReport problemRelated quotes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!

Share
 
 
This text contains a mistake
This text is duplicate
The author of this text is another person
Another problem

More info, if necessary

Your name

Your e-mail