Three O'Clock Again

I cannot sleep in the darkness of the night, My eyes won't close until the morning light. I crave the pink and powder blue sunrise, the morning dew like diamonds to my eyes. Eyes of green much like the grass at dawn, life much like the fog above the lawn. The midnight lake is black like memories past, I watch the silver moon, its shadows cast. Three o'clock again, when spirits walk, the silence better than whispered ghostly talk. Sometimes I feel gray death descending, I pray to see the golden sun ascending. The winter trees are black against the sky, branches reaching pleading asking why. Let me hear the cardinals sing once more, let me sleep in sunshine I implore. © Danielle White