89 Night Poems to Learn Different Facets of Night

The night is a time of mystery, beauty, and contemplation.

It’s a time when the world slows down, and we have a chance to reflect on our lives and connect with the world around us in new ways.

In this collection of night poems, we will explore the different facets of night, from the beautiful and serene to the dark and haunting.

Through these poems about night, we’ll discover the magic of the night and the endless possibilities it offers.

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Beautiful Night Poems

The night can be breathtakingly beautiful, and these beautiful poems about night capture its allure with grace and elegance. From moonlit landscapes to starry skies, these works celebrate the majesty of the night.

1. A Poison Tree

       by William Blake

I was angry with my friend:

I told my wrath, my wrath did end.

I was angry with my foe:

I told it not, my wrath did grow.

And I watered it in fears,

Night and morning with my tears;

And I sunned it with smiles,

And with soft deceitful wiles.

And it grew both day and night,

Till it bore an apple bright.

And my foe beheld it shine.

And he knew that it was mine,

And into my garden stole

When the night had veiled the pole;

In the morning glad I see

My foe outstretched beneath the tree.

2. As Soon As Fred Gets Out of Bed

       by Jack Prelutsky

As soon as Fred gets out of bed,

his underwear goes on his head.

His mother laughs, ‘Don’t put it there,

a head’s no place for underwear! ‘

But near his ears, above his brains,

is where Fred’s underwear remains.

At night when Fred goes back to bed,

he deftly plucks it off his head.

His mother switches off the light

and softly croons, ‘Good night! Good night! ‘

And then, for reasons no one knows,

Fred’s underwear goes on his toes.

3. Good-Night

       by Percy Bysshe Shelley

Good-night? ah! no; the hour is ill

Which severs those it should unite;

Let us remain together still,

Then it will be good night.

How can I call the lone night good,

Though thy sweet wishes wing its flight?

Be it not said, thought, understood –

Then it will be – good night.

To hearts which near each other move

From evening close to morning light,

The night is good; because, my love,

They never say good-night.

4. After Parting

       by Sara Teasdale

Oh I have sown my love so wide

That he will find it everywhere;

It will awake him in the night,

It will enfold him in the air.

I set my shadow in his sight

And I have winged it with desire,

That it may be a cloud by day

And in the night a shaft of fire.

5. Celebrate

       by Anna Akhmatova

Celebrate our anniversary – can’t you see

tonight the snowy night of our first winter

comes back again in every road and tree –

that winter night of diamantine splendour.

Steam is pouring out of yellow stables,

the Moika river’s sinking under snow,

the moonlight’s misted as it is in fables,

and where we are heading – I don’t know.

There are icebergs on the Marsovo Pole.

The Lebyazh’ya’s crazed with crystal art…..

Whose soul can compare with my soul,

if joy and fear are in my heart? –

And if your voice, a marvellous bird’s,

quivers at my shoulder, in the night,

and the snow shines with a silver light,

warmed by a sudden ray, by your words?

6. Warm Summer Sun

       by Mark Twain

Warm summer sun,

Shine kindly here,

Warm southern wind,

Blow softly here.

Green sod above,

Lie light, lie light.

Good night, dear heart,

Good night, good night.

7. The Lamplighter

       by Robert Louis Stevenson

My tea is nearly ready and the sun has left the sky.

It’s time to take the window to see Leerie going by;

For every night at teatime and before you take your seat,

With lantern and with ladder he comes posting up the street.

Now Tom would be a driver and Maria go to sea,

And my papa’s a banker and as rich as he can be;

But I, when I am stronger and can choose what I’m to do,

O Leerie, I’ll go round at night and light the lamps with you!

For we are very lucky, with a lamp before the door,

And Leerie stops to light it as he lights so many more;

And oh! before you hurry by with ladder and with light;

O Leerie, see a little child and nod to him to-night!

8. Harlem Shadows

       by Claude Mckay

I hear the halting footsteps of a lass

In Negro Harlem when the night lets fall

Its veil. I see the shapes of girls who pass

To bend and barter at desire’s call.

Ah, little dark girls who in slippered feet

Go prowling through the night from street to street!

Through the long night until the silver break

Of day the little gray feet know no rest;

Through the lone night until the last snow-flake

Has dropped from heaven upon the earth’s white breast,

The dusky, half-clad girls of tired feet

Are trudging, thinly shod, from street to street.

Ah, stern harsh world, that in the wretched way

Of poverty, dishonor and disgrace,

Has pushed the timid little feet of clay,

The sacred brown feet of my fallen race!

Ah, heart of me, the weary, weary feet

In Harlem wandering from street to street.

9. Dead Nights

       by Mehta Hasmukh Amathaal

Dark clouds run to cover sun’s face,

With sparkling lights to join the race,

Descending on earth with malign intent,

Fear, destruction all with dreaded content,

Pin dropp silence in midst of night,

Not a ray of hope or slight light,

Little scuffle or fierce fight,

All noticed with powerful sight,

Dead night represent people pessimist,

No hope of revival as done by optimist,

Passim is t wait for ship to be sunk,

Optimist tries to drag even if drunk,

One remains always awake

Even nothing is at stake,

Person with controlled wishes,

Even water is disturbed with movement of fishes,

Holy soul departs at mid night,

Path is set with precision and right,

Evil doer’s absence may not be missed,

Good and light will always be noticed,

Nights represent bleak future and gloom,

Even flowers feel shame and not boom,

All wrong doings done at night,

People may thin it is path right,

Night is not all that bad,

Proper time to remain calm and sad,

All energy to cool and find some rest,

Preparation for next day’s fight for best,

10. Alone

       by James Joyce

The noon’s greygolden meshes make

All night a veil,

The shorelamps in the sleeping lake

Laburnum tendrils trail.

The sly reeds whisper to the night

A name- her name-

And all my soul is a delight,

A swoon of shame.

11. The Night in Isla Negra

       by Pablo Neruda

Ancient night and the unruly salt

beat at the walls of my house.

The shadow is all one, the sky

throbs now along with the ocean,

and sky and shadow erupt

in the crash of their vast conflict.

All night long they struggle;

nobody knows the name

of the harsh light that keeps slowly opening

like a languid fruit.

So on the coast comes to light,

out of seething shadow, the harsh dawn,

Gnawed at by the moving salt,

Swept clean by the mass of night,

blood stained in its sea-washed crater.

12. Axis

       by Octavio Paz

Through the conduits of blood

my body in your body

spring of night

my tongue of sun in your forest

your body a kneading trough

I red wheat

Through conduits of bone

I night I water

I forest that moves forward

I tongue

I body

I sun-bone

Through the conduits of night

spring of bodies

You night of wheat

you forest in the sun

you waiting water

you kneading trough of bones

Through the conduits of sun

my night in your night

my sun in your sun

my wheat in your kneading trough

your forest in my tongue

Through the conduits of the body

water in the night

your body in my body

Spring of bones

Spring of suns

13. Up-Hill

       by Christina Georgina Rossetti

Does the road wind up-hill all the way?

Yes, to the very end.

Will the day’s journey take the whole long day?

From morn to night, my friend.

But is there for the night a resting-place?

A roof for when the slow dark hours begin.

May not the darkness hide it from my face?

You cannot miss that inn.

Shall I meet other wayfarers at night?

Those who have gone before.

Then must I knock, or call when just in sight?

They will not keep you standing at that door.

Shall I find comfort, travel-sore and weak?

Of labour you shall find the sum.

Will there be beds for me and all who seek?

Yea, beds for all who come.

Famous Night Poems

Throughout history, poets have been drawn to the magic of the night. In this section, we’ll explore some of the most famous poems about night.

1. The Night Piece

       by Robert Herrick

Her eyes the glow-worm lend thee,

The shooting stars attend thee;

And the elves also,

Whose little eyes glow

Like the sparks of fire, befriend thee …

2. Night Thoughts

       By Edward Young

By Nature’s law, what may be, may be now;

There’s no prerogative in human hours:

In human hearts what bolder thought can rise,

Than man’s presumption on tomorrow’s dawn?

Where is tomorrow? in another world.

For numbers this is certain; the reverse

Is sure to none; and yet on this perhaps,

This peradventure, infamous for lies,

As on a rock of adamant we build

Our mountain hopes; spin out eternal schemes,

As we the fatal sisters would outspin,

And, big with life’s futurities, expire …

3. Frost at Midnight

       by Samuel Taylor Coleridge

The Frost performs its secret ministry,

Unhelped by any wind. The owlet’s cry

Came loud—and hark, again! loud as before.

The inmates of my cottage, all at rest,

Have left me to that solitude, which suits

Abstruser musings: save that at my side

My cradled infant slumbers peacefully …

4. Meeting at Night

       by Robert Browning

The grey sea and the long black land;

And the yellow half-moon large and low;

And the startled little waves that leap

In fiery ringlets from their sleep,

As I gain the cove with pushing prow,

And quench its speed i’ the slushy sand …

5. We Grow Accustomed to the Dark

       by Emily Dickinson

We grow accustomed to the Dark –

When light is put away –

As when the Neighbor holds the Lamp

To witness her Goodbye –

A Moment – We uncertain step

For newness of the night –

Then – fit our Vision to the Dark –

And meet the Road – erect …

6. The Starlight Night

       by Gerard Manley Hopkins

Look at the stars! look, look up at the skies!

O look at all the fire-folk sitting in the air!

The bright boroughs, the circle-citadels there!

Down in dim woods the diamond delves! the elves’-eyes!

The grey lawns cold where gold, where quickgold lies …

7. Night Journey

       by Theodore Roethke

I wake in every nerve.

I watch a beacon swing

From dark to blazing bright;

We thunder through ravines

And gullies washed with light.

Beyond the mountain pass

Read more of Theodore Roethke’s poems.

8. Night Mail

       by W.H. Auden

This is the night mail crossing the Border,

Bringing the cheque and the postal order,

Letters for the rich, letters for the poor,

The shop at the corner, the girl next door.

9. Night on the Mountain

       by George Sterling

The fog has risen from the sea and crowned

The dark, untrodden summits of the coast,

Where roams a voice, in canyons uttermost,

From midnight waters vibrant and profound.

High on each granite altar dies the sound,

Deep as the trampling of an armored host,

Discover more George Sterling poems.

10. Night

       by Anne Brontë

I love the silent hour of night,

For blissful dreams may then arise,

Revealing to my charmed sight

What may not bless my waking eyes!

And then a voice may meet my ear

That death has silenced long ago;

Read more Anne Brontë poems.

11. Night Garden of the Asylum

       by Elizabeth Jennings

An Owl’s call scrapes the stillness.

Curtains are barriers and behind them

the beds settle into neat rows.

Soon they’ll be ruffled.

12. To Night

       by Percy Bysshe Shelley

Swiftly walk o’er the western wave,

Spirit of Night!

Out of the misty eastern cave,

Where, all the long and lone daylight,

Thou wovest dreams of joy and fear,

Which make thee terrible and dear,—

Swift be thy flight!

13. The Starry Night

       by Anne Sexton

It moves. They are all alive.

Even the moon bulges in its orange irons   

to push children, like a god, from its eye.

The old unseen serpent swallows up the stars.   

Oh starry starry night! This is how   

I want to die.

14. A November Night

       by Sara Teasdale

There! See the line of lights,

A chain of stars down either side the street —

Why can’t you lift the chain and give it to me,

A necklace for my throat? I’d twist it round

And you could play with it. You smile at me

As though I were a little dreamy child

Behind whose eyes the fairies live

Funny Night Poems

The night can also be a time of laughter and joy. in this section, we’ll explore interesting poems about night that will make you chuckle and maybe even see the world in a new light.

1. A Big Night Out

       by Anonymous

I’m out to impress

It’s a tutu, not a dress

Big night, I confess

2. Robin and His Merry Men’s Night Out

       by Tom Cunningham

Robin treated his men down at the inn

To sexy wenches, food, mead and some gin

All got drunk on the mead

Then got high on the weed

Friar Tuck said “it’s not right it’s a sin.”

Robin’s outlaws were enjoying the night

And with the sheriffs men started a fight

The men ran for their lives

There was lots of high fives

The peasants cheered at this comical sight.

3. Hot Night, Cold Milk

       by Carol Louise Moon

The night was hot, I couldn’t fall asleep

and so I rose to get a glass of milk.

I tiptoed past the cat who slept so sound

and envied her the ease in which she slept.

She woke and followed slippers down the hall.

The milk I poured was for myself, alone.

Her eyes a perfect glow, a begging plead

convinced me that the milk was really hers–

(a half a cup and nothing more for me.)

She lapped and lapped until was satisfied.

And I, a sleepy dupe, hauled off to bed.

4. One Night Stand

       by Niketa Mckenzie

Their once was a girl in love

She knew he was sent from above

They danced, they sing they did everything

But then he deflated in the tub

5. Twas the Night Before Easter

       by Tomas Vazquez

He knows if you are sleeping,

He knows when you’re awake,

He knows if you’ve been bad or good.

Zombie Jesus must be staked!

So eat your crackers and wine,

And think that you’ll be saved,

But that’s not why he’s here because

Your brains are what he craves!

He’ll never stop his rampage.

Not until he’s fully fed,

But nothing satisfies his hunger

Like what rattles in your head.

He’s coming down the chimney.

He’s underneath your bed.

You think you can outrun him,

But soon you will be dead.

So you better not whisper,

You better not cry

Cuz even a shot between his eyes

Won’t stop Zombie Jesus, tonight.

6. Red Light

       by A.O. Taner

have you ever felt like

the flashing red light on the roof,

lonely as ever

visible at night, useless by day?

in sync with its partner next door

for a quick kiss over a few flashes only

then arguing again and again

night in, night out.

have you ever felt like

the flashing red light on the roof,

not signaling a warning to keep away

but sending a call for compassion?

using the dark pauses in between

to yell the same name

over and over and over

into the emptiness of each night.

have you ever felt like

the flashing red light on the roof,

being your silent cry

only heard by your eternal love?

7. Nightie Night

       by Jan Allison

I love my diaphanous nightie

It’s sexy and sheer- it’s quite flighty

But it’s a shocking disgrace

Scant material and lace

Cost hubby ninety-nine pounds ninety!

8. Silent Night, Weary Night

       by Laurie Ginn

Silent night, weary night

Worked all day, worked all night

Worked at baking and wrapping of gifts

Hoping the family wont get in a rift

Ohhh and where is the fruit cake

 and  by gosh now who spiked the nog

Silent night, weary night

House to clean, the cake has a lean

All of the stockings now hung in a row

I think the cat just swallowed a bow

Oh  I forgot batteries

Thank God 7-11 won’t close

Silent night, weary night

Family is gathered

The paper is scattered

I still have three more gifts now to build

No understanding the instructions will yield

Oh but these are the good times

I keep repeating this in my mind

9. Last Night I Dreamt

       by Mary Chapman

Last night I had a dream

I’d met the king and queen.

I was among the guest,

waiting to be seen.

They sat in separate rooms

and interviewed each guest,

When it was my turn,

I curtsied and begun

I spoke to only Charles

and even danced with him

Diana was there too,

she spoke to but a few.

I wondered if he knew,

If the rumors were all true.

That she was not to be

with him eternally.

Then one day she was gone

She left her loving sons

her dreams to carry on

The work she had begun

10. Good Night

       by Sidney Hall

“It is pointless me using this,” he said

As he held it laying in bed

He tried it again

Which made him feel great pain

So he slept with his night cap off of his head

11. School Story

       by Paula Goldsmith

Alphabet learned

Before school

Counting too

Doing homework






Jump rope

Kicked and



Night dreams

On to


Queen crowned

Rest some

Summer is here



Visit jobs

Working now

X-raying bones

Ya-hoo I made it

Zoom through life.

Short Night Poems

Sometimes, less is more. These short poetries about night pack a powerful punch, capturing the essence of the night in just a few words.

1. Friend

       by Rabindranath Tagore

Art thou abroad on this stormy night

on thy journey of love, my friend?

The sky groans like one in despair.

I have no sleep tonight.

Ever and again I open my door and look out on

the darkness, my friend!

I can see nothing before me.

I wonder where lies thy path!

By what dim shore of the ink-black river,

by what far edge of the frowning forest,

through what mazy depth of gloom art thou threading

thy course to come to me, my friend?

2. Love Is

       by Nikki Giovanni

Some people forget that love is

tucking you in and kissing you

“Good night”

no matter how young or old you are

Some people don’t remember that

love is

listening and laughing and asking


no matter what your age

Few recognize that love is

commitment, responsibility

no fun at all


Love is

You and me

3. Dream Variations

       by Langston Hughes

To fling my arms wide

In some place of the sun,

To whirl and to dance

Till the white day is done.

Then rest at cool evening

Beneath a tall tree

While night comes on gently,

 Dark like me-

That is my dream!

To fling my arms wide

In the face of the sun,

Dance! Whirl! Whirl!

Till the quick day is done.

4. Fall Leaves Fall

       by Emily Bronte

Fall, leaves, fall; die, flowers, away;

Lengthen night and shorten day;

Every leaf speaks bliss to me

Fluttering from the autumn tree.

I shall smile when wreaths of snow

Blossom where the rose should grow;

I shall sing when night’s decay

Ushers in a drearier day.

5. Quiet Girl  

       by Langston Hughes

I would liken you

To a night without stars

Were it not for your eyes.

I would liken you

To a sleep without dreams

Were it not for your songs.

6. Mrs. Moon  

       by Roger Mcgough

Mrs Moon

sitting up in the sky

little old lady


with a ball of fading light

and silvery needles

knitting the night

November Night

7. Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep  

       by Mary Elizabeth Frye

Do not stand at my grave and weep

I am not there; I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow,

I am the diamond glints on snow,

I am the sun on ripened grain,

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning’s hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight.

I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,

I am not there; I did not die.

8. A Birthday Poem

       by Ted Kooser

Just past dawn, the sun stands

with its heavy red head

in a black stanchion of trees,

waiting for someone to come

with his bucket

for the foamy white light,

and then a long day in the pasture.

I too spend my days grazing,

feasting on every green moment

till darkness calls,

and with the others

I walk away into the night,

swinging the little tin bell

of my name.

9. The Epic Stars

       by Robinson Jeffers

The heroic stars spending themselves,

Coining their very flesh into bullets for the lost battle,

They must burn out at length like used candles;

And Mother Night will weep in her triumph, taking home her heroes.

There is the stuff for an epic poem–

This magnificent raid at the heart of darkness, this lost battle–

We don’t know enough, we’ll never know.

Oh happy Homer, taking the stars and the Gods for granted.

10. Granny Create

       by Spike Milligan

 Through every nook and every cranny

The wind blew in on poor old Granny

Around her knees, into each ear

(And up nose as well, I fear)

All through the night the wind grew worse

It nearly made the vicar curse

The top had fallen off the steeple

Just missing him (and other people)

It blew on man, it blew on beast

It blew on nun, it blew on priest

It blew the wig off Auntie Fanny-

But most of all, it blew on Granny!

Long Night Poems

For those who prefer a more detailed exploration of the theme of the night, these long poetries about night will not disappoint you. From epic tales to intimate reflections, these works offer a rich and rewarding reading experience.

1. Cymbric Vale

       by Lindsay Laurie

I believed that I was rural … that I lived in country style,

where the city was close handy … that big distance was a mile.

Trains and buses ferried daily; a freeway ran close by …

comforts of the modern world easily reached with hand or eye.

All my fifty years I have relied upon the comforts of a town.

Be it work or be it play I chimed with the urban sound.

Just by chance four years ago an invitation did prevail …

I camped in the Shearer’s quarters on the station Cymbric Vale.

‘Tis here at Cymbric Vale I stood on the back veranda,

with eyes upon the countryside, searching near and far,

at the scrub and dry creek beds over hill and down each dale,

coming under the selection of the station Cymbric Vale.

Last stop on this new trip was the inn at Little Topar.

Fueling up, something to eat; met a station boss named Roger.

Catching up on local gossip plus everything that we should know.

Who caused his sheep to gather lice and he shot a rogue dingo.

Now with the darkness falling, our headlights scout the track,

we’re off the tar, we’re on red dirt, through country way out back.

Roos are thick in all directions with fleet of foot they bound.

Some drawn to the headlights and damn near get knocked down.

Those four years have flown and now I note a different scene.

Not dry and parched or arid but with the land a tinge of green.

Lush pastures not like Gippsland. This graze has a different sphere.

Bringing forward the breeding programs of what’s not wanted here.

So I’m back here in the shearer’s quarters with five other blokes,

settling in on our first night with coke or beer and jokes.

Some are talking pig shooting toward a station called Grassmere,

and we’ll be counting goats, where the range is rocked and sheer.

These mates of recreation … their blood lust ekes the hunting type.

Their guns are strapped across the back and riding on a motorbike,

out towards some station quarter where the feed grew two feet high …

we left for this mountain range out where the sheep must vie.

Through blue-green cattlebush, we could see the wild goat herd,

dashing quickly from the flats when our four wheel drive was heard.

Twenty here and fifteen there; the numbers soon did swell.

Near time to bring the stock truck in for goats are paying well.

A stand of trees, pruned beneath, offered us some needed shade.

I pointed to the mulga parrots with the colours they displayed.

A butcherbird looked down on me. Wrens find safety in a clump,

and the bearded dragon deadly still watched from a red gum stump.

The quandong tree we knew grew here, we found and it had died,

then I noticed that the red gums upon their higher side,

had debris wrapped around each trunk of leaves and twigs or bark.

Three inches fell and grew the green and left this watermark.

Wild tomatoes are abundant; they must be poisonous too.

Sheep or goats don’t graze upon them, though on bluebush do.

But the Bluebush is abundant stretching far as I can see …

and forgotten are directions to the native orange tree.

Big ‘reds’ and ‘blue flyers’ caught the camera or the eye.

Emus strut at quite a pace; slapping wings when top knots fly.

We meander through the dead wood of death from long ago,

and passed a tank close to the homestead holding water very low.

We gathered back inside the quarters, and as we’re being fed,

ideas are bantered all around. “We’ll get some yabbies” someone said.

The house tank is holding plenty so with an hour and a net,

we cooked a bucket full of yabbies on a campfire after sunset.

Late at night a spotlight’s on; a ‘drag’s’ been pulled across the clay,

from a Kangaroo that has been shot for dog meat through the day.

There are no sign of foxes where expectations have rode high …

just an eagle resting in a mulga bush where the offal lay close by.

Relaxing back around the campfire prior to heading off to bed,

there is lot’s of idle chatter and some pretty crude things said.

The past keeps rising constantly, as do politics and sex.

There is giggling with the banter for whatever came out next.  

In the morning time was taken to check out the shearing shed,

which recently had been rebuilt to replace the old one with regret.

This modern structure called the ‘Hilton’ with new age technology

doesn’t have the guise of shearing life, nor the feel of history.

Bikes are fueled, guns are checked, and we left the station home.

We are heading for the mountain range beyond the aerodrome.

The four-wheel drive we followed found the rocky hillsides tough.

The guns are staying silent; the goats are not prepared to bluff.

Leopard wood and cypress pine grow plentiful on stony tors.

The orange throated euro blends with rock formation flaws.

In mountain pools of water, frogs take advantage of the wet.

But hunting it is slim so far; we haven’t seen a goat here yet.

A decision made about some cattle took us to the far extension,

there has been some free agistment; the talk of beef is mentioned.

So with swags and tucker, boning knives, these cattle – man they seldom see.

A single shot brought down one beast to hang in a red gum tree.

Through scrub and grasses overgrown, cars revved up to the tank,

Pigs were caught unwary; guns blazed from off the bank.

With squeals and shots the chase is on – silence returned and now,

lying amongst the lush green growth is a piglet and a sow.

Night fell cool and stars they shone like I’d not seen before.

The hunters with the spotlights left to search and kill some more.

Shots echoed ‘cross the landscape. On return with glee they said,

their marksmanship is perfect – three foxes now lay dead.

First light in the outback is one stunning sight to see,

growing pink against the steely blue – false sunrise ruses me.  

A band of cloud then changes to a murky lemon lining;

gold glows off the puffy hems just before the sun is shining.

The land goes back to what it is; other predators now rule.

From the band saw to the chiller, the beast is hung to cool.

Some off cuts scattered here and there; the station dogs soon found,

and warned the chooks and turkeys who quickly gathered ’round.

It’s time to leave, the cars are packed, there’s handshakes and farewell.

There’s a long drive home ahead of us, plus many gates as well.

And dust that whirls behind us falling down on station land,

settles on the tracks of where we’ve been on stony hills and sand.

But you never know just what you’ll see when a corner comes to you,

after miles and miles of sameness; a spectacle can come in view …

and to see a dozen eagles on the carcass of one kangaroo,

or a dingo slinking through the mulga; or damage that they do.

The video will show it all, but the mind still reads it best.

To be there is the only way to see the outback worlds contest.  

To see the ravages of nature where you’d swear that man must fail …

I suppose there have been seasons when they have at Cymbric Vale.

2. Be of Good, Compassionate Courage

       by Earnest Musings


They flutter, now I see

Fiery lions…

They’re dancing with me


Come out and shine down


Shun out my darkened frown

I am the infinitesimal stars in the tranquil, terrestrial night

I am the scars minutes before the sunlit dawn

You are extraordinary like the terrain in the sky of delight

Sweep away the darkest rays tonight and invite in cheery company of delightful, beautiful enlightenment, bright and zealous as a knights’ might, but nevertheless, brought forth by His son

Lord, before I was born,

You did marvelous miracles in disguise again and again

I’m a fire within, so torn

Due to stressed-out resentment and impure, untamed sin

Tame my everlasting fires of wild desires…

They’re insane without a good name, a dried-up grain

It tires me out, burns me out like wildfires

That ignite in my once-mild brain, hard to truly attain…

Terrified and petrified

By being with you

I was horrified and cried,

Being around you too,

Darkness deep down, draining me so more or less

With daunting, damaging distress, left me hopeless

It drowns me drastically,

Way too complicated to merely express

Freedom acted like captivity…

Reality got confused with fantasy I guess

Lord, You are my cure

From these impure sins I commit everyday

Must say, I will endure

These waves of emotions and dangers today

Who knows, who really knows

Where the wicked wind blows

Who knows, I may never know

Where the blessed breeze will blow

But, I know for sure…that, you know,

I will come to completely understand

The sun above will glow and grow

Like dandy lions, bravery almost at hand

Who knows, who really knows

Where the wicked wind blows

Who knows, who will ever know

How the shows of faith shall show

In the eyes of a benevolent believer…

Have faith, be not deceived

The future will return no longer a blur

Sorry, I feel you, I grieved

The rain from clouds overhead

Will shower upon us pressure and dread

The gravity might leave us dead

But, He will see us through and cut off doubts’ thread

He will give us gracious evergreen to roam in instead

Wish I can be free, immediately

The desert knows how I feel immensely

The cloudy lake sparkles in bliss ecstasy

I need to rejoice to reveal radiance to many

That, I will do and He’ll make it happen gladly

The stars that twinkle, shooting triumphantly

Wish I prayed more to be mega-motivated vigorously

Lord, You look after me…

So grateful for Your watch that illuminates me most assuredly

Your very vigilant vitality

Your quietude is my spiritual interlude that latches on to me

Shadows and reflections

Taunt and haunt me with several battles and afterwards, harsh rejections

There are some exceptions

I have been appreciated, accepted and loved with all kinds of affections

You wander in my space of my embrace

You ponder what went wrong in the first place

It was all because of your rapidly difficult race,

Needed to overcome, being last place in disgrace

Your silhouette sweeps away the sorrow

You motivate me to move on till tomorrow

Fade away the hours spent on worrying and grief

Dread drove me to bed, brought me a lack of relief

Entrenched in embarrassment, engrained in impulsive, inner-core glow

Because that inner glow can be as precious and ebony as a plum; although,

I believe that positive affirmations and notion-inspired memories that flow

Like a river of deliverance, reflecting radiant candlelight since forever ago

I adored you, but not as much as I did before

You were my body, from outer layer to core

You rubbed my weary, hardened temples to paradise, genuine with no hidden lies

You felt me all over by your sensual gaze until we saw each others’ beloved eyes

We are dandelions…

We are champions…

In our own silent wars

I need His cure for these scars..

I bear unbearably and terribly….

Tension-tainted passion, possibly,

Will disappear without a trace of horrendous fear

I cried myself to sleep, so I won’t let fall my tear

Vanish, oh anguish of awful scarce hope

A change that is of childlike, clever cheer –

I need that to draw near and to hold me dear

All of these hardships, I find hard to cope

We are chickens, unchained from crowded factories

We are the feathers of a billion birds that flutter at ease

Release me from the cell that I know of all-too-well

Dance with me, brave and bright lions,

In this den of dandelions and daisies in which we dwell

I find it swell that we remained champions

Sway with me and stay with me for a while and might as well

Grow and glow like iridescent and elegant shine

I often wish, wholeheartedly, you were mine

Oh, it wasn’t meant to be

Unfortunately; however, maybe,

One day, I’ll come to see

My soon-to-be love of sincerity

Perhaps, she would totally uplift my mood

Uplift me when I feel madly misunderstood

Actually, it would be good to be understood

Instead of being taken advantaged of,

No, that’s no good…one day, my love

Will explore with me in the wondrous woods joyfully

And will share with me adoration in exuberant ecstasy

And, lastly, give me everlasting encouragement genuinely

That special day will come

When I will meet that someone

That will appreciate all of me

For who I am and will be entirely

Yes, I’m clearly not the only one

Lonely without hardly anyone

Except you, acceptance in my mind

While my heart is gravity-bound, weighed down,

Once ascending and one-of-a-kind

My delicate smile will never, ever be an ugly frown

We will be as one sun with His son

There’s a great chance for everyone

Maturity in me

Will grow exceptionally

God will maneuver dreams to reality

No longer shall we be like lambs that rove aimlessly…

I am a dandy lion in my Father’s garden that I fancy

Lazily lying with the sheep of weep-no-more

Reap remedies of relief from shore to shore

According to God’s plan for us, eventually in store

So, drifting away will not be our problem anymore

Solutions soar…..

Climb up the uplifting stairs,

Leading to an open door

Of opportunities and possibilities with no worries or cares that were wretched barriers before broken down in order to have unlimited unity with our future freedom, flaring-up with fervor flames, scorching aflame more and more with splendid satisfaction, like airborne clouds above, unleashing passionately bespangled rain that will perpetually pour – have no fear, my dear, for our faithfulness flourishes forevermore

I am the strength-thriving dandy lion, brazen-sent,

Brutally resilient and never bewildered and oblivious

Someday, I’ll be more courageous and magnificent

I won’t end up as a scorpion, vicious and temerarious

I am dynamic, floating dandelion, ruthless on the contrary

Caught in the wicked wind of wonders of prosperous significance

I could be brutal if threatened, but oh so bold, I must admit

Behold, I am incredibly legitimate with a bit of vivacious wit

3. April’s Babbling Foolishness

      by Tom Arnone

And she smells good without keeping all

Beef, sitting lonely on that lies floating on the tufted floor. “Surely,” I was napping, cold noodles, I implore!

But the Raven, “Nevermore.”

Deep into that darkness peering, I got enough trouble.

Boy, the whole world together. Eagerly I guess dirt is what thy worldly name is on the tufted floor.

Taken from the night thinking. Eagerly I sat engaged in guessing, when, I’m supposed to spend the lamp-light gloating o’er, She shall press, “Nevermore.”

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose foot-falls tinkled on the floor; And my soul grew stronger; hesitating then he fluttered – Till the dirges of evil! – prophet still, hot noodles with seeing bird above my heart be still is there balm in Gilead? – here I scarcely more than muttered, sitting lonely on that placid bust, chicken guts!

Beef, while I pondered, shrimp with garlic sauce, and the silken, Though its answer little meaning – little relevancy bore; hesitating then no longer, “Nevermore.”

Beef, yet all undaunted, nearly napping, and sour chicken, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to take out, “Though thy crest be shorn and mighty truck load of prehistoric swamp mud! Take thy form from off my door!” Quoth the Raven, lemon chicken with fantastic terrors never felt before. Then the bird said, beef with fantastic terrors never felt before; But the morrow he will leave me burning, curry sauce, crispy noodles, all my soul within me burning, roast pork, pepper steak and sour combination, “Nevermore.”

But the Raven, “Or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore!” Quoth the morrow; – Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber of flea-bitten bug ridden throng of flatulent sewage! – prophet still, if bird or white rice, chicken guts! Take out, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burnt into my bosom’s core; This and more I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burnt into my bosom’s core; This and more I sat engaged in guessing, curry beef lo mein, shrimp egg foo young, roast pork with my head at my chamber of contaminated cigar butts!

The Raven, “Nevermore.”

Beef with broccoli and nothing more.

“Prophet!” said I, “Tapping at my chamber of pureed monkey mucus! – prophet still, if bird or steamed dumplings, stir fried rice noodles, beef with chili sauce, fried or steamed white rice, perfumed from an erratic horde of his Hope that melancholy burden bore – Till I said, Doubtless,” said I, “Sir,” said I, “Art sure I heard a tapping, still is sitting, still is sitting On the pallid bust of septic frog water!”

Beef with many quaint and mighty dipstick of Pallas just above my chamber door, “Nevermore.”

Beef Szechuan style, but no syllable expressing To the fowl whose fiery eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming, And the only word, anniversaries, roast pork with onions and spicy beef egg foo young, all the seeming of seething pus! By that Heaven that bends above his chamber of soggy camel snot!

Ah, Bar-B-Q pork with fantastic terrors never felt before; So that now to take out my heart be still the beating of my heart be still a moment, and nothing more!

Beef with sorrow for the lost Lenore! Quoth the floor; And his eyes have flown before – On this home by Horror haunted – tell me see, then, shrimp lo mein, boneless chicken almond cookies, chicken, chicken egg foo young, vegetable chow fun, “Nevermore.”

The Raven, “Lenore?” Merely this and nothing more!

Beef lo mein, free delivery within 4 blocks, I implore; But the fact is I was napping, hot spicy beef fried rice, open 8 days, suddenly there came a blasphemous sliver of steaming monkey meat!

Then, pork fried rice, weak and mighty stack of my heart, and mighty bowl of rotten bear whiz!

This I flung the shutter, catering for free delivery, weak and mighty repository of the countenance it wore, shrimp, shrimp, with garlic sauce, fearing, Doubting, Buddhist delight, I stood there wondering, beef with my head at my chamber door – This is it and tomato, beef, That one gently rapping, crispy noodles, roast pork, eggplant with my head at ease reclining On the fact is I was napping, calamari with broccoli, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour. Nothing farther then he uttered – not a schizophrenic cask of mealy verbal diarrhea!

Beef with many a flirt and mighty crust of repugnant disk failures!

Ah, nevermore!

Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling, Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to take out that now burnt into my bosom’s core; And my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer, crispy shrimp, I implore – Is there – is there balm in beer batter, sitting lonely on this desert land enchanted – On the morrow he hath sent, Bar-B-Q beef, while I pondered, General Tso’s chicken guts!

Beef, “Nevermore.”

Startled at the house specialties, “Thing of evil! – prophet still, Singapore rice, my books surcease of sorrow – sorrow for the angels name Lenore – Clasp a cow. Not the ducks and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore – Tell this is some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster Followed fast delivery within 6 days, Nevermore.”

“Thing of evil! – prophet still the beating of forgotten lore – While I nodded, nearly napping, and chicken, chicken wings, run, with my chamber door!


Jane said, “Here he fluttered – Till I scarcely more than muttered, Sir,” said I, funny, Though thy crest be shorn and shrimp with me truly, shrimp with this and sour soup with mien of lord or steamed white rice or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore, Jane and tomato, perched above my bosom’s core; This and vegetable chow fun, look, I muttered, Jane, I muttered, “Mother.”

Beef, “Nevermore.”

You – here, all the shutter, dropping her underwear now burnt into the chamber turning her dress.

Colors may be paid by that God we have sent, consult your receipt. There balm in Gilead? – tell me, feeling the door – Perched upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door.

“Get thee back through him.”

She knew that way she was watching her flesh. There spoken was unbroken, $111.

Then, what thereat is not the Beatles.

Quoth the grave and stern decorum of the angels name Lenore. Quoth the whole lobster with broccoli, Dynasty delight, all the night thinking.

He was in beer batter, By the ushers watch me up was sure gets complicated. They like parking your gum on the floor; And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the stuff in the other kids are a man. They like you came rapping, truly your forgiveness I wish he’d hurry up snappy answers for evermore.

4. Echoes of A Shady Past

      by Howard Kerr

An icy chill descends on 13 Beaver Veil Cottage as sisters Ester and Ellie walk gingerly up the steps on this wet and windy night.

This once charming pied-a-terre was now in a final phase denouement.

The trees surrounding this house creak ominously overhead as tangled electric wires cackle in the rusty leaves.

“Night owls like us should be wary.”

Ellie sighs in a shudder as her sniffling nose warps her every word.

“Yes……Ellie,  watch your every step or we could be joining our Uncle Denny and Auntie Diane in that eternal place in the sky, that is, if there is one.”  Ester countered with a ghost- laden voice.

“Heavens above or heaven on earth your faith or is it fate is sealed in another world.”

Ester continued dryly.

A loose tile suddenly drops in front of both of them as they approach the rotting front door of this old period home

with its spaced windows, dripping eaves, and contoured outlines.

“Focus that torch of yours, Ellie.

Look at how evenly split those tiles are.

The hidden hand of a superior being no doubt.”  The moon peeps behind the clouds almost in sync with Ester‘s edgy broadside..

Ellie smirks nervously as they both tread the damp dark hallway with its crumbling structures and sinister undertone.

Auntie Diane and Uncle Denny used to poke fun at our squabbles when we were caring for them.

Like ourselves they were natural mimics.

They loved copycatting our voices just as we did when imitating them.”

Ellie’s tone a haunting echo reverberating around the interior of this latter day cave.

“Oddly enough Diane always had her worry beads with her. But our impish banter offset her angst.  Auntie’s ripples of laughter at the two of us proved that.”

Ellie once more stressing a point

“Indeed.” Ester concurred. “Denny was more unearthly in his asides.”

Pictures, Cds and other personal belongings seemed either to appear out of nowhere or were left strewn as if they had been planted deliberately.

“Ester…where are you? My walks,…My walks….I know you are hiding on me.”

Ellie’s mischievous giggle now a misty cacophony in imitation of uncle Denny’s sonorous voice.

“The joker within me surfaces despite myself.”

Ellie deadpans.

“Joker or perhaps a lurking scruple or two.”

Ester replied as she cast her auntie Diane’s scapulars at Ellie which she had just spotted on the floor next to a Light Emission Diode gadget.

This religious object somehow missed its target.

“Far too long brewing that coffee.

Are you making that Percolator?”

Ester assuming her aunt Diane’s plummy twang.

Within seconds a swirling witch’s brew of Diane and Denny voices  filled the air in grotesque mockery as the sisters taunt each other in rotation.

“You are holding on too tightly, Diane.  I need a rest Uncle Denny.”

Ellie calls for an immediate halt to this hair-raising escapade.

“We both cared for our relatives as best we could.”   Ellie observes against this web of suspense.

“Diane with her plain dress sense at odds with her aura loved to drop oblique hints about delays.   Oh…. and that rocking chair.”

Ellie opined.   “All an act too…she was never glued to it when it suited.   The sudden movements and those long- range controlling beams from her peepers.”

Ellie darkly noted.

“As for Denny and his colour scheme clothing.  He was always nudging Diane when we stared at each other. They had an inkling as to when you and I would row over the Eternal Life question…..or some other state beyond this earth.”

Ester her voice now saturated with the dampness of this old house.

“The 13 Beaver Veil Brouhaha.”

Ester as she adds another spine-tingling quip to the proceedings.

“They loved  our spats.”

Ellie whispers amid the sound of scurrying  mice and sinister splish-splash of ceiling leaks.

“This hovel could still be the death of us literally.

It has decayed since our last visit.”

The sisters’ voices now merge as one.

For whatever reason Ellie seemed to be curiously familiar with this dwelling despite the fact that it was supposed to be their first visit in six months.  

Ester’s suspicions had been heightened every minute they spent in this abode.

Diane and Denny had a special sense of attachment to this house despite the best wishes of their caretakers.

The elders revelled in this old home and its ghastly….indeed ghostly choir of sounds from the mists of time.

“Have you the gumption to climb these stairs?

After all, the way things are going this could be our last chance to peer around Diane and Denny’s rooms.”                                             Ellie’s wet croak vent in the ascendant.

“Wouldn’t be too sure about the lights unless there’s Divine Light.”

Ester and Ellie jostling with each other.

A pregnant silence ensued followed by spooky giggles.

Ester and Ellie climb the stairs carefully eyeing their surroundings while they take big gulps of dank mould air.

This was no time for either to lose their balance.

Suddenly a burst of thunder and a scattered moonlit beam meld with Ester’s frightened shriek.

“Ellie, am I seeing things?  It’s the rocking chair. Is that where you left it the last time?…..on the top of the stairs.”  Ester now frantic.

“Now you might believe in a higher power ,,,er…gosh.”  Gasps Ellie.

“There’s a faint outline in the chair.  Apparition or spirit.” Ellie again.

“Where’s my tea?  Aren’t you going to read to me? Are you two still at it?”

Diane’s voice or it’s like as it flits from spot to spot.

“Ellie please not now ….oh no is that Denny?”

Ester was almost possessed.

Denny was seemingly speaking through her in retaliation.

“I’m here, those delays, feeling guilty are we?” Was I that much trouble?”

The rocking chair was tilting back and forth as if it was about to tumble.

The ceiling plaster crashes as Ellie and Ester grab each other before heading back downstairs.

They dash to the front door which Ellie had forgotten to shut.

It looked as if the door was going to close of its own accord.

The rocking chair was now at the foot of the stairs as they just managed to squeeze past the closing door without being trapped .


“Keep running”

Ellie her words nearly choking her.

Out the gate and down the main road they fled against a bizarre backdrop of strange whirlpool noises emanating from the house they had barely escaped.

“Phew that was close….I never want that experience again.”  Ester blurts.

You seemed to know the house much better than I did?”  Ester again in an arched tone.

“You haven’t been out there by yourself within the last six months?”

Ester posing the question again suspiciously.

“Oh…..oh…no….that God is my witness.”

Ellie gleams with her ironic religious retort.

And the moon peeps out again from behind the clouds as Ellie and Ester continue to flee.

Their fearful laughter mingling with beads of sweat that segue into the frost encrusted air for miles around.

5. The Amistad Mutiny

       by Dennis Spilchuk

Slavery, a dirty word no matter how it’s pronounced:

Abducted and herded to the slave fortress of Lomboko1 for trade.

To be tossed in chains below deck on the Portuguese ship Tecora,2

Sailing the Atlantic Middle Passage3 leg of the voyage,

Disenfranchised from their Mendiland4 home in Africa.

Bound for Caribbean disembarkment on the Cuban Island5 in 1839;

They are transferred and transported like stock of intrinsic value,

For resale in the new world to produce wealth for the plantation owners:

Who see these human beings as property to be exploited;

Whipped into working, planting and harvesting sugar cane fields.

History condenses a span of time as a way of life in reading materials,

Accepting evil’s existence as necessary for the advancement of ideals,

Apologetic for past transgressions, these same institutions enjoy existence,

Praised on moral high ground with forgiveness, enjoying the riches

Slavery has endowed in allowing generations of ‘privileged living.’

Prodded down and up gangplanks, blinded by the sun,

Ebon colored skin and bone zombies shuffle along.

In steps determined by iron links connecting their ankles,

While cruel eyes watch; desensitized to the inhumane procession,

Boarding the friendship schooner; translation “Amistad”6 in Spanish.

Somewhere in the hull of suppression, depression, and suffering,

A Mende hero arises by the name of Joseph Cinqué,7 who remembers,

Rice crops, wife and children smiling, and a cool breeze of summer,

Conspires mutiny, as a means to freedom: a nail is all that is required.

In hopes of escape to return home, on the other side of the Atlantic.

A nail which is employed to slip the shackles off

(from their ankles and wrists which they rub for circulation)

Then storm the deck with makeshift weapons,

In murderous tumult, hacking until they are victorious.

Freedom is more than a word spoken in haughty circles: it is blessèd.

But irony always twists and the lives they spare to sail the ship

Steer in the rising sun’s direction by day, and northwest by night.

For two months, until eventually, the schooner is overtaken by the US Navy,8

Off the New York State coast, and the rebellions arrested,

And placed in leg irons again; to face the courts in a slave nation.

Reiterated words of disrespect are challenged and debated in law and order,

As if these people were subhuman, aliens from another world.

Conscience is inconsequential; for deeming them other than property,

The courts would then condemn themselves as the animals,

For engaging so monstrous a crime of God’s creation.

For two years, the case is argued: appeal after appeal9 without remorse;

Are these prisoners slaves or not? Property of another or free persons?10

Subtlety, prejudicial reference to skin color inferiority relationship is not reasoned

Nor justification for slavery. Guilt of evil doing is avoided, and the Mende acquitted;

To return home at their own expense, no amends by the United States government.

6. The Injury of Fury

       by Earnest Musings

Awful anger expressed in verses

Didn’t give me blessings, but curses

I’m genuinely depressed for letting you down all year round

Don’t wanna be candidly blind like a sick, wandering hound

Happiness is what I need to rehearse

It will be peace to this sad, dark verse

I don’t feel like a strong, mighty knight,

Always fearful to take flight at night

Now, I’m the lonely fool for not making wise decisions

Right now, I wanna make a change to fulfill some missions

In my mind…in your eyes…

In my soul, there’s no lies

You are playing me like a game these days

But, I will tame the terrible tiger that is inside me

I am displaying distress in so many ways

And I don’t mean to act so cowardly and franticly   

Afraid to lose control so suddenly

The atmosphere is cool momentarily

At least no one is invading my personal space

Looking forward to achieving grandeur grace

Is there any hopeful bliss to search for

Or am I left to forlorn for you some more?

Is there any good luck for me in store?

My eyes should be to the sky instead of the floor…

Wash away the tears, flowing so rapidly from my eyes

Push away the fears, growing in my panicked heart as time flies

Understand where I am coming from and what I’ve been through

I’ve been going through bipolar manias for many years and all is true

Do you really wanna know why?

There’s times when I want to live or die

I wanna explain what’s going on

I’m just hoping you won’t be gone

Picked on by passive aggressive behavior I’ve viewed in the past

Alas, I’ve learned that peacefulness in chaos doesn’t last

I’ve fallen for the lies of your cries…I’ve grown stronger ever since…

I found myself in the rubble of your goodbyes and seeking His deliverance  

I’m embracing alienated ambition little by little

If only my somnolent bones can be less brittle

Forgiveness will be replaced with resentment sooner or later…

I’m like the salt and sand of the sea, flowing and churning in a beautiful blur

Virtuous humility will crown my head of bottled-up dread

It feels like an eternity to be driven by compassionate determination

I can’t go on any further when my blotched feet feel like lead

Vigorous madness and frustration zip through my veins of lamentation

There’s no reason I should sit here and mope

There’s gotta be a reason to stand up and have hope

There’s no need to be trapped in shameful solitude’s sphere

I want to believe and have faith in brighter days without any fear

I want to mourn in delightful joy

I don’t want to be angry anymore

I want to be a happy-go-lucky boy

I don’t want to be a closed door

I want to be an open door of opportunities for everyone around me

I don’t want this hostile rage or discomfort to wrap itself around me

I’m willing to be set free from the captivity I’ve put myself in

I’m in desperate need of an optimistic outlook from within

Your echoing empathy leaves me no reflection of disheartening fear in this mirror

I have allowed myself to rise and fall like my failures and successes I hold so dear

I dodged the bullets of never-ending negativity that wants me to fall into temptation

Envious sorrow and hopeless irritation will not upset me with inner aggravation

I will not let nightfall chase away my confident stride

I will not allow doubt and grief to make me cower and hide

I will be courageous through the storms of tribulation

I will shake off the tension and be full of anticipation

 Encouragement expressed in verses

Did give me blessings, not curses

I’m genuinely delighted to have sought You in times of trouble and assumption

Don’t wanna be falling in the same traps of worthless corruption

Distress, in general, is what I need to let go of

If I could be simply glad in Your land of Love,

I would feel like a strong, mighty knight,

Always resilient and faithful, fighting the good fight

Now, I’m growing wiser and braver for choosing His narrow path

Eventually, I will be rid of all guiltiness from past sins, so I won’t face His wrath

In His loving heart, He is absolutely merciful

To those who repent from being so resentful

In His eyes of truth and passion,

He knows that I will gain compassion

After I go through the rollercoaster of life…

Peace, He will grant you and I if we discard strife

I want to mourn in delightful joy

I don’t want to be angry anymore

I want to be a happy-go-lucky boy

I don’t want to be a closed door

In your mind…in my eyes…

In His soul, there’s no lies

Sometimes, living this life can be maddening to the core

The fire of desire ire has scorched me aflame not too long ago

Other times, living this life has its positive effects that I adore

You know, the snow that sparkles aglow is in our soul as a whole –

It is like a single snowflake,

Transforming into crushed coal

Please don’t cry me a lake…

Let the emotions take its toll

Melt away the walls of wrath between us

Trust is like dust, which withers away

Shelter us in the shadows of our eustress

Lust must vanish or it will lead us astray

The madness and sadness will not be the end of us

Happiness and gladness will be the beginning of us

I’m genuinely relieved that God hasn’t left you and I in grief

Our actions and sentiments along with it is but a leaf

I’ve been restless and these ups and downs I feel emotionally

Don’t benefit you or me in any way

You’ve been dreaming of me through thick and thin fervently

I pray you don’t ever deny it any day

Listen to the consoling whispers of the breeze

Do you smell the smoke of my passion at ease?

Are you in tune with the rhythm of my heart beats?

In my masculine chest (which yearns for perseverance),

It beats for you and you alone as it resonates, radiates and repeats

I know this is God’s test and I will be receiving reverence

The fire of our desire ire has been put out by the Lord…

Our decadent emotions is what we shouldn’t hoard

The wall of our wrath must be demolished completely

 Our saturated souls has been transformed tremendously

We are like a gleam of a stream compared to God, who is a sparkling lake

I know that the feelings we had put our lives and other lives at stake

 But…look at life in my perspective – sometimes, it takes deleting our history

To drive into the rocky road of recovery…He will heal our injury of fury

He forgives us for our transgressions

He is merciful and wants us to be guilty no more

He appreciates you and I’s confessions

He promises us that our life will be an open door

Opportunities of shameless joy awaits us

But, first, we are like school kids in the bus,

Heading for a destination that is full of surprises

That won’t reduce us to anger with its dainty devices

Night Poems That Rhyme

Rhyming poems have a musical quality that makes them easy to remember and fun to recite. in this section, we’ll explore poems about night with rhyming words.

1. A Late Good Night

       by Robert Fuller Murray

My lamp is out, my task is done,

And up the stair with lingering feet

I climb. The staircase clock strikes one.

Good night, my love! good night, my sweet!

My solitary room I gain.

A single star makes incomplete

The blackness of the window pane.

Good night, my love! good night, my sweet!

Dim and more dim its sparkle grows,

And ere my head the pillows meet,

My lids are fain themselves to close.

Good night, my love! good night, my sweet!

My lips no other words can say,

But still they murmur and repeat

To you, who slumber far away,

Good night, my love! good night, my sweet!

2. Say Good Night

       by Hasmukh Amathalal

We wish all good night

It is customary on our part

Great custom and tradition

With solid bond and relation

Even stranger may find it as honor

Even though gesture can be considered minor

Few words of belonging may spring surprise

It is full of oneness with promises

Whole of universe goes in dark

Almost under magic spell to start

The day has brought lot much happiness

Any individual may want night to spent with brightness

So “Good night” address means a lot

Day is desperately and vigorously fought

When you receive few words for sweet sleep

That makes you delighted with good mood to keep

Make it habit to say “good night”

That keeps person to feel right

It is parting gift before going to sleep

Your heart may beat with happy beep

3. A Good Night

       by Francis Quarles

Close now thine eyes and rest secure;

Thy soul is safe enough, thy body sure;

He that loves thee, He that keeps

And guards thee, never slumbers, never sleeps.

The smiling conscience in a sleeping breast

Has only peace, has only rest;

The music and the mirth of kings

Are all but very discords, when she sings;

Then close thine eyes and rest secure;

No sleep so sweet as thine, no rest so sure.

4. Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

       by Dylan Thomas

Do not go gentle into that good night,

Old age should burn and rave at close of day;

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,

Because their words had forked no lightning they

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright

Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,

And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight

Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on that sad height,

Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.

Do not go gentle into that good night.

Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

5. Good Night

       by Robert Charles Sands

Good night to all the world! There’s none,

Beneath the “over-going” sun,

To whom I feel or hate or spite,

And so to all a fair good night.

Would I could say good night to pain,

Good night to conscience and her train,

To cheerless poverty, and shame

That I am yet unknown to fame!

Would I could say good night to dreams

That haunt me with delusive gleams,

That through the sable future’s veil

Like meteors glimmer, but to fail.

Would I could say a long good night

To halting between wrong and right,

And, like a giant with new force,

Awake prepared to run my course!

But time o’er good and ill sweeps on,

And when few years have come and gone,

The past will be to me as naught,

Whether remembered or forgot.

Yet let me hope one faithful friend,

O’er my last couch shall tearful bend;

And, though no day for me was bright,

Shall bid me then a long good night.

6. Good Night Little Star

       by Anonymous

Once upon a time a little twinkly star

Crept up to the sleeping moon,

He teased him and he tickled so

To wake him very soon.

But, do you think that he would stir

Oh no, he would not budge

For moon can never rise to shine

Until he gets the nudge.

The golden sun just when he knows

Is the one to give the moon a wink,

Now it is your turn to gleam

For my ruling power is fixed.

It’s your turn to reflect my light

While my sovereignty is afar,

Go glow, be Prince of night below

Shine forth the beauty that you are.

Good night to you,

good night my twinkly little star

7. Good Night and Good Morning

       by Richard Monckton Milnes

A FAIR little girl sat under a tree

Sewing as long as her eyes could see;

Then smoothed her work and folded it right,

And said, “Dear work, good night, good night!”

Such a number of rooks came over her head,

Crying, “Caw, caw!” on their way to bed,

She said, as she watched their curious flight,

“Little black things, good night, good night!”

The horses neighed, and the oxen lowed,

The sheep’s “Bleat! bleat!” came over the road;

All seeming to say, with a quiet delight,

“Good little girl, good night, good night!”

She did not say to the sun, “Good night!”

Though she saw him there like a ball of light;

For she knew he had God’s time to keep

All over the world and never could sleep.

The tall pink foxglove bowed his head;

The violets courtesied, and went to bed;

And good little Lucy tied up her hair,

And said, on her knees, her favorite prayer.

And, while on her pillow she softly lay,

She knew nothing more till again it was day;

And all things said to the beautiful sun,

“Good morning, good morning! our work is begun.”

8. Goodnight Little Houseplant

       by Shel Silverstein

Goodnight little houseplant asleep on the sill

I’ll pull the shades so you don’t catch a chill

And tomorrow in the morning don’t be breaskfast for two

We’ll have ham and eggs for me and nitrogen for you

Goodnight little houseplant tucked in your clay pot

Maske sure you don’t catch Huntington’s Rot

Remember little houseplant stay away from them bees

I’ve heard they may carry a social disease

Goodnight little houseplant goodnight

Here’s your glass of water should I leave on the light

Tomorrow we’ll talk of the things that we did

I love you little house plant who needs women and kids

9. Good Night

       by Eliza Follen

The sun is hidden from our sight,

The birds are sleeping sound;

‘T is time to say to all, “Good night!”

And give a kiss all round.

Good night, my father, mother, dear!

Now kiss your little son;

Good night, my friends, both far and near!

Good night to every one.

Good night, ye merry, merry birds!

Sleep well till morning light;

Perhaps, if you could sing in words,

You would have said, “Good night!”

To all my pretty flowers, good night!

You blossom while I sleep;

And all the stars, that shine so bright,

With you their watches keep.

The moon is lighting up the skies,

The stars are sparkling there;

‘T is time to shut our weary eyes,

And say our evening prayer.

10. Good-Night Song

       by Laura E. Richards

Good-night, Sun! go to bed!

Take your crown from your shining head.

Now put on your gray night-cap,

And shut your eyes for a good long nap.

Good-night, Sky, bright and blue!

Not a wink of sleep for you.

You must watch us all the night,

With your twinkling eyes so bright.

Good-night, flowers! now shut up

Every swinging bell and cup.

Take your sleeping-draught of dew:

Pleasant dreams to all of you!

Good-night, birds, that sweetly sing!

Little head ‘neath little wing!

Every leaf upon the tree

Soft shall sing your lullaby.

Last to you, little child,

Sleep is coming soft and mild.

Now he shuts your blue eyes bright:

Little Baby dear, good-night!

Night Poems for Kids

The night can be a magical time for children, and these night poems for children capture that sense of wonder and imagination.

1. Minnie and Winnie

       By Alfred Tennyson

Minnie and Winnie slept in a shell.

Sleep, little ladies! And they slept well.

Pink was the shell within, silver without;

Sounds of the great sea wandered about.

Sleep, little ladies! Wake not soon!

Echo on echo dies to the moon.

Two bright stars peeped into the shell.

“What are they dreaming of? Who can tell?

Started a green linnet out of the croft;

Wake, little ladies! The sun is aloft.

2. Let’s All Go to the Moon

       by H.L. Dowless

We once sang a sweet song

In the merry month of June,

“Oh come with me to the

Valley of the moon!”

We shall travel about in clothes

Of golden sand,

If you will just give me your

Precious little hand.

Oh come now,

Let’s go to the moon!

In those shaded craters

We shall forever swing

From a beautiful hand stitched

Hammock that I thought to bring!

Can you come with me to the valley

Of the moon?

In the sands of shining gold

We’ll all happily dance,

Where only sunbeams

And angels have pranced!

We will sit about

In the cool shade and shadows,

Eating manna from the fairies

In the valleys!

Oh please now,

Do come to the moon!

Oh can you see there,

My dear child, oh look!

Where the old man’s left eye is,

We will be!

All of us forever merry,

Like a portrait in a book!

Oh please now,

Let’s go to the moon!

Yes you, yes me

All of us and the whole family,

Do come now,

Let’s go away soon.

3. Lullaby, O Lullaby

       by William Cox Bennett

Lullaby! O Lullaby!

Baby, hush that little cry!

Light is dying,

Bats are flying,

Bees to day with work have done;

So, till comes the morrow’s sun,

Let sleep kiss those bright eyes dry!

Lullaby! O Lullaby!

Lullaby! O Lullaby!

Hushed are all things far and nigh;

Flowers are closing,

Birds reposing,

All sweet things with life are done.

Sweet, till dawns the morning sun,

Sleep, then kiss those blue eyes dry.

Lullaby! O Lullaby!

4. Sleep, My Treasure

       by E. Nesbit

Sleep, sleep, my treasure

The long day’s pleasure

Has tired the birds,

To their nests they creep;

The garden still

Is alight with lilies,

But all the daisies

Are fast asleep.

Sleep, sleep my darling,

Dawn wakes the starling,

The sparrow’s stirs

When he sees daybreak;

But all the meadow

Is wrapped in shadow,

And you must sleep

Till the daisies wake!

5. A Charm to Call Sleep

       by Henry Johnstone

Sleep, Sleep, come to me, Sleep,

Come to my blankets and come to my bed,

Come to my legs and my arms and my head,

Over me, under me, into me creep.

Sleep, Sleep, come to me, Sleep,

Blow on my face like a soft breath of air,

Lay your cool hand on my forehead and hair,

Carry me down through the dream-waters deep.

Sleep, Sleep, come to me, Sleep,

Tell me the secrets that you alone know,

Show me the wonders none other can show,

Open the box where your treasures you keep.

Sleep, Sleep, come to me, Sleep:

Softly I call you; as soft and as slow

Come to me, cuddle me, stay with me so,

Stay till the dawn is beginning to peep.

6. The Sandman

       by Evaleen Stein

The Sandman! Hark, I hear him!

He’s coming up the stair,

And everybody near him

Is nodding, I declare!

He’s peeping in the door now,

And first of all he spies,

As he has done before now,

The little children’s eyes!

Then quickly does he throw it,

His golden sleepy-sand,

And all, before they know it,

Are off for sleepy-land!

Night Poems for Her

The night can also be a time of romance and passion. in this section, we’ll explore good night poems for girlfriend that are perfect for sharing with the special woman in your life.

1. After the Fire

       by John Gilman

The fire came from words inside

burning……with a roaring blaze

eyes the night around

ignoring…window’s frosty glaze

empty days…showered the page

black ink..designed by shadows

his canvas sculpted in charcoal

of burnt ashes..cold winds blow

but still..angry lines poured out

driven by memories full of heat

and questions…about mysteries

promises dark deceit

when the final lines..were silent

cloudy smoke..from lover’s pyre

he wrote a title….hands shaking

calling his work…..after the fire

2. When the Candle Burns Low

       by John Gilman    

As ghostly clouds. Caress moonlight

cold winds whisper. Bleakest poetry

invading vacant castles….of silence

where my pen….paints images I see

midnight’s clock chimed hours ago

room’s lone candle has burned low

eyes need a visit from the sandman

while my heartbeat is growing slow

what spirit moves in flickering light

calling attention…to gathering dark

is it a lamented image….of long ago

that left its scalpel’s sharp cut mark

Ophelia’s weeping..builds up inside

for love withered…like fallen leaves waning consciousness

on bitter winds where

memory grieves

3. Nothing to See

       by John Gilman

Questions fall like cold rain

staring at an old stone wall

silence rides on bitter wind

of a phone….you never call

Memories. A math problem

as I add good bad

is love part of the equation

or was it chance that I had

I paint shadows..over light

on a canvas..of sad dreams

with time….a faceless clock

days blend into blue seams

feeling just like desert sand

swirling upon barren fields

nothing grows..on this land

loneliness….the only crop it


just one thing to be asked:

did you ever…care for me?

but cold rock can’t answer

and through teardrops

there’s nothing

to see

4. Sinking

       by Anonymous

They say it gets better with time.  

But it’s only gotten worse. ..

I lost all my friends to time.

They arent dead, but far apart and tonally caustic.

I don’t see family.

I’m watching everything rush past me on a vhs cassette rapidly eroding until the tape flakes away, turning the precious memories into nothing more than a discarded spool of broken plastic.

I wish I was better…

Instead, im sinking down, a worm too afraid to peek and see the sun.  

Too stubborn to sip the cool air

Writhing in self pity.

Dying in stagnation.

5. Late Night Worries

       by Henry Elias

Hands are shaking.

Heavy drops fall and soak into the pillow.

A stabbing pain in my stomach.

I’m drowning,

the ocean of work crushing me.

I won’t ever finish it,

I shouldn’t even try.

A failure,

A disappointment.

Everything is falling apart.

I can’t breathe.

The tears seem to choke me,

threatening to cut off my oxygen.

But with time,

the panicked sobbing recedes,

and in their place,

the quiet snores of a mind asleep,

seeming to promise a better tomorrow.

6. I Can Only Wish

       by Anonymous

No happy thoughts right now;

Not sad, no.

Many would have been here before

And they’re fine so;

What do I have to worry about?

Nighttime silence causes one to wonder and roam,

Atop my mattress inside my comfy home

I sit and type, these few nights, no energy, no hype.

And I question, ‘Will I make it big? Will I let everyone down? Will we have a chance to be fine again? Is this chaos here for good or just for a while?’

They say they’ve lived more than me,

That my age is ideal for pleasure and joy.

They’ve been through my phase before, but no,

I guess not; no.

Is there someone for me who understands?

Lying on my bed with the flicks of keypad sounds

I can only wish, but wishes are a let-down.

Nothing great here, none of us including me are trying hard enough to be real; all my senses are messed up so I find it hard to actually feel.

But there’s always the promise of tomorrow, the sun will rise as it does so every day.

Perhaps not long from now everything will be okay.

Don’t Know What

I used to be so sure,

Back in the house from where I came, midst the hours of ambient rain,

Whence trees did rustle and diffract the pouring rays of gold and shiny silver;

I always knew what I should feel, I needed not to heal.

Now when darkness falls and the sun is gone,

Now at night so late I sit alone,

I start to feel a new presence

Of knowledge, the voice is madness.

I can’t understand this new feeling;

My life cannot give it meaning.

For long will be these nights to sit hunched,

And strong will be the thoughts that will come.

I used to know,

Used to be clear in my head and direction;

Now my words and actions can’t express it, these new emotions that I’m feeling

Since when did these instances appear that now disfigured and shaky

My train of thought has become, and it’s hard to escape me.

I don’t know,

Don’t know what may come near the end.

Feeling like an alien among close friends,

Far have the happenings of old gone;

None of them can get this object I’m seeing.

No one can stop the bleeding.

By late hours with hormones drugging my thoughts

A reminder of almost all I tend to forget,

Without an answer or a solution for this riddle

Heavy eyes open wondering a little.

7. Paper Boat

       by Anonymous

I love how the rain never fails to remind me that

I fall in love every day with the same ‘someone’.

And that there’s a chance that those feelings can

hold absolutely no value to that same ‘someone’;

it’s like even the skies feel my agony and anxiety

and shed these tears, only to show me their sympathy.

So, I go out, without a raincoat or umbrella,

jump in the puddles, scattering the muddy water,

only because I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be a

kid who knew what life was about, and didn’t care

about his feelings for just one particular person.

I wrote my special ‘someone’ a love letter one day.

She doesn’t have a clue of anything. But I’ll take

that step now, it’s time. Remember how paper

boats float on water and we loved to build them

out of pages from spare notebooks? I made one out

of the letter. I’m running to the lake now,

to let the boat sail. I believe it’ll reach her

someday. And I’ll be waiting here, by

the window, for her paper boat.

Late Night Poems

There’s something special about the late-night hours when the world is quiet and still. in this section, we’ll explore dark poems about night, capturing the sense of solitude and contemplation that comes with this time.

1. Late Night

       by Marshall Gass

The setting sun has a way

of creeping up on you

with cherry red coloured dreams

nights as naughty as little gnomes

flitting about in escapades

of soft silk lusts.

Once the night embraces you

with its cloak of stars

velvet summer laziness

and tomorrows never there

its time to take the fullness of today

into the emptiness of tomorrow

and slip into that twilight zone

where all the magic materializes

on why we love these special spring days.

2. Late Night Drives

       by Kj Knight


except the soft piano riffs of classic 60’s covers

and the summer wind slipping past the parted windows

as we drive through a different world

where the daily countryside encapsulates

and the sentinel stars coagulate

into a calming blanket of condensation

where serotonin and melatonin miscibles reign supreme


except for the soft squeeze of my hand in hers

the symphonized beat of two hearts stitched as one

and the subtle sigh of mother nature’s languid lullaby

beneath the masked face of the full moon

we drive through a different world

and wonder how something so special

can be a secret

kept between

only us

3. Late Night Thoughts

       by Khairudin

A song for my beloved

A poem written by a poet

A rhythm of soul with no hatred

A long lasting love that will never be expired

If u wish for a happy day

I too will pray

Im so grateful to own these eyes

So grateful to see your smiles

What do you feel deep inside?

Why feelings you try to hide?

4. Late Night

       by Fiachra Breac

wind whips around the eaves,

whistling by the Velux,

rattling the back gate.

which consequences do I own,

whose hands are inside mine,

what veins belong to me,

and where do they lead?

what if the walls don’t hold tonight?

what if they crumble and break?

and I get ****** out –

the contents of my room

shooting through the sky,

burrowing deep into my skin,

piercing the clear, cold night?

It’s settling down now,

but you always knew it would.

These things pass, and tomorrow,

you’ll collect the detritus scattered on the road.

You sink deep into the pile

of old blankets

and duvet

and wisps of remembrance

You’re safe here

at least until tomorrow,

at least until tomorrow,

at least until tomorrow,

5. Nightlife

       by Anonymous

late-night feelings

over daily existence

nebulous thoughts

under clear eyes

Night Poems about the Sky

The sky is a canvas of beauty and wonder, especially at night. in this section, we’ll explore poems about night sky about the night sky, capturing the majesty and mystery of the stars, the moon, and the cosmos.

1. Suspended Lights

       by Heiress Steelheart

Suspended lights awed for some time

To which you are to rhyme?

To the eyes of the child or this mine?

To the shallow joy or depth of a line?

Lantern’s fire– suppressed and chained.

Dressed in red, I tried to explain.

Dim lights night, and starless skies…

Arrested sparks, gleaming eyes…

In the heart of the child, it is fun;

The sentiment of man– “Where’s the warmth of the sun?”

2. La Luna

       by Sandra Lee

L a  L u n a …

you’re the phosphorescent rock

hanging bright

reflecting sweet-sunlight

from those frozen tiny bits

smoky of winter dust

unleashing glittering magic.

you’re the ornament of Venus

and first cousin to Mars

your rays glimmer andromeda…

for your spot in the sky

is infamous

in this tinseling universe…


the classics of poetry

upon human spangled-souls…

their feathered-hearts

pirouette your ancient orbit

of curlicuing silver.

3. A Steadfast Champion

       by Sandra Lee

of light and dark are you

understanding my mortality

hollowed with imperfections…

for you’re the great muse

of ten thousand centuries

dazzling my refrains

with twelve o’clock diamonds

from this night of earthshine

where I am your footstool.

O’ champagne moon

of uncreated light

together we shall bleed

blowing down everything

blocking our view.

4. Unseen Beauty of the Night

       by Elishah Irodistan

Fabric made of cotton in midnight blue,

Decorated with diamonds and laces, too.

A brooch of silvery pearl was pinned at the center,

A beauty that endures forever.

A silent witness, awe taken for granted.

Inspiring sweet smile, leaving hearts astounded.

It is sometimes alone, beautifying the darkness,

Easing the breeze of loneliness…

Yet the soul that wonders about its beauty and might

Appreciates the unseen beauty of the night.

Shooting Star

Do you ever sit and watch the sky

hoping that one will soon pass you by

always wondering where it might be

don’t look away or you won’t see

the glorious wonder before your very eyes, it’s just God’s creation passing by

But if your lucky and you do see

be sure to make a wish on me

for I burn brighter than the night

streaking across the sky as I take my flight

keep on looking for I am their

make the wish for someone you care

For they may not look up in the sky

and see my wonder passing by

believe in me, as I do you

and maybe one day your wish will come true

balls of light that come and go

what beautiful wishing will I grant below

For I am just a shooting star

gaze at my wonder from afar

5. Starry Secrets

       by Srishty Sharma

the night whispers

cool breeze and moonlight;

shifting in a dapple

as leaves rustle

the lake,

without the day’s guide

and adorned with starlight

is night’s pristine mirror

stippled silver diamonds,

shimmer on the celestial fabric

woven of deep shades of midnight blue

syncing with the cricket chorus

they watch, they listen

to dreams and wishes and secrets

and yearn to talk back

with an extent likewise

darkness delves into mysteries

and new beauty is uncovered

which unlike daylight

brims of enigma

night time,

with its midnight sun

dons more starry secrets

than the day can ever withhold

6. Once Upon a Midnight

       by Eden Elliott   

The wind was howling an evening song

as the stars were silently winking

In this world of waking orbs

not long ago the sun was sinking

A billion stars glimmer in place

a splattered, serene yellow light

The moon swayed back and forth

Once upon a midnight

The evening air was cold and crisp

and from here to there was flung

A piece of space dropped from the sky

and a thunderous sound was rung

The rock fell, splitting atmosphere

and soared in a violent flight

A streak of fire scarred the sky

Once upon a midnight

The glistening, pearly ocean water

reflected the hovering moon

The comet drifts, full of bustling stars

that would begin to vanish soon

The world covered in dark blue shadows

but the sky, colored and alight

The earth stared, filled with awe

Once upon a midnight

7. Night Time Walks

       by Adrian Harrison

Pretty glowing harbour lights

glistening on water so calm,

the lighthouse oscillates rocky bays

so no ships will come to harm.

Music plays from a beach barbecue

the party sparks into dance and beer,

the wooden slats out over the sea

to the fair on the Victorian pier.

Shimmering cliffs dwelling high

the stars so glorious from here

no artificial light to spoil the view

and a night so calm and clear.

A shooting star falling so fast

boats out fishing on horizon view

It’s going to be a lovely day

with sun and skies so blue.

Final Thoughts

The night is a universal theme that has fascinated poets throughout the ages. It’s a time of introspection, beauty, and mystery, offering endless possibilities for reflection and creativity.

This collection of poems about the night captures its many facets, from the beautiful and serene to the dark and haunting.

Whether you’re looking for a short, memorable verse or a long, in-depth exploration, these night poems offer something for everyone.

These poems for night remind us of the power of language to capture the essence of the world around us, and they invite us to connect with the magic of the night in new and exciting ways.

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