Midnight
As Midnight plays his haunting tunes,
The music drifting on the breeze,
The woodland creatures come to hear,
The moon eavesdrops behind the trees.
The magic fills the moonlit woods,
And tiny sprites and fairies dance.
He plays until the break of day,
When Sunrise joins in with her chants.
by Jack Horne
for Tell his Story
Copyright © Jack Horne | Year Posted 2011
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