Writing in pitch-dark pitchy begin
Upon the stroke of silent pen
Touches my words across the night sky
Where me inner self meets a spirited lullaby
Silent space is a lonely place
Where altar sits in poet grace
Night sweats; pearls of sweet verse hone
As I cradle and nurture in golly forest home
An owl calls goodnight hoot
The vista of darky shadows across the woods salute
While scribbling lyrical in darkness peep
Poetic drift, rush past, looking deep
Writer man licked in night-time dew
Shedding sleep dust to the dusky view
To sound of rhymes, the scripter re-awaketh
The wellspring of motivation for the Midnight Poet
Hopeless was a man who held his fear to take a stand.
Reading scripter; blossoming his seed across this land.
Helpless was this man lost before he began,
Hanging in one of a crowd not really taking in what he had found
Serene was this man when to hear the sound of a Childs heart reaching for stars
Not bound to a chart
Blinded was this man by dumb-founded thought a defiance to start
Scared he would be never realizing what it felt to be free
Dreams of a sea floating in the essence of what is free
Birds to flight; bringing to her sky a passion of delight
Upholding to what he knows is right triumphant in his own personal fight
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.