Grows The Night
Grows the night, and sweet dreams come floating
and I leave my bed to fly with stars,
I adore their twinkling, blinking ways,
sometimes I rest on a crescent moon.
Grows the night, and dark velvet holds me,
embracing me close like a lover;
I cling not wanting this dream to end,
but know in dreams again, grows the night.
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June 9, 2020
Poetry/Verse/Grows The Night
Copyright Protected, ID 20-1259-281-03
All Rights Reserved, 2020, Constance La France
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2020
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