ptshrt

As night lies across the city, and its'
    stillness remains undisturbed,
That is when the poet's soul awaits
    the rumblings of the heart to be heard.

Then the open mind begins to sort
    each inspired and awesome thought,
That has that day found a resting place
    down deep within, that he knows not.

With unbound energy he writes till
    complete, all those images by day did
       chance to meet.
And as the moon leaves from the sky,
    the poet has yet to find out why~

That the best time to be in commune with oneself,
    Is in the stillness of the night;
         With nobody else.

~Catherine B. Warnock Carver