The midnight garden

The moon sways silently towards midnight.
Lilac flowers emerge from their hidden tomb,
blossoming handfuls of dust.

Emerald mist swirls gently around
the glistening grass.
Blue rain pours tears on elfish leafs.
It bounces softly on creatures of secrets.

Birds unknown soar the scarlet sky.
Sensational sounds fill the quiet atmosphere.
Stardust and whispers dance on pink petals.

The willow tree stands proud
Swaying slightly in the soft breeze.

Shadows strecth to the unknown blackness.
Fading,fading as dawn returns once more.

Ack, this one hit my heart.

Ack, this one hit my heart. What a beautiful poem about midnight. You captured many of the things that come to my mind when I think of this magical time. Awe-struck. :)

-"The dead of midnight is the noon of thought." Anna Barbauld

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