A Magical Time
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Liquid ebony pools
within shadows of night.
And behind purple clouds,
a scarlet sun sheds light.
A cauldron of black bats
eclipses a gold moon.
And dominates dark skies
of sable and maroon.
Trees ink leaf canopies
in merging shades of green.
And consolations form,
where only time has been.
Shrouded in nightly mist,
melancholy plants weep.
And their tears morph into
drops of dew as we sleep.
Night's a magical time
that is dear to my heart.
And meant to be enjoyed,
like good wine or fine art.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2023
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