art Poetry

Midnight by Robin Bliss

Waking from my sleep
Glancing at the clock, it’s midnight
The witching hour I think
Lightheartedly to myself

The night is still, quiet
No traffic noise at all
No wind blowing noisily
Quiet and peaceful here

Except for the breathing
Of my beloved, sound asleep
Raising myself on my elbow
I kiss her lovingly on the head

She murmurs something. still asleep
I’m glad that I didn’t wake her
In the semi-darkened bedroom
Felling at peace, relaxed

Slowly drifting back to sleep


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