Once a Midnight

by DreamGalaxy

Published April 4, 2012

In Poetry

A pretty flower laced with the light of gold
whispering the secrets of the old
softer  and softer, until the sun falls away
till the breeze stops it's gentle sway

Silence falls as day bevomes dark
finally, the night has made it's mark
a silver globe appears in the air
with a silver light  for all to share

A cooling breeze flowing through the night
as the stars shimmer with sparkling light
green trees capped with snow
grass with a frosty silver glow

An enchantment held by silvery cold
before warmth arrives with a glint of gold
a saber of gold lightens the midnight gloom
rays of light bursting into full bloom

The flower's silver edges fade away
the night disappears with the light of day
everything sways to the calmness of still
for the desire of moonlight is their darkest will


Copyrighted (haha)
Comments & reviews · 2
User avatar
Riverlight
Review
Riverlight wrote a review Review · Sep 8, 2020

Hello there, @DreamGalaxy! Though you will likely never see this, congrats on being my 75th review! :D

My first impression is that you are a really skilled poet when it comes to rhythm and rhyme. If I could keep a beat half as well as you do, I'd be proud of myself forevermore!

Apart from a minor spelling error with "becomes" in the Second Stanza, there are no grammatical errors that need to be fixed here!

I really love this poem! You are extremely skilled, and I'll have to check out your others sometime!

Have a nice [*insert time of day here*]!!!
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User avatar
lyssiekins
Review
lyssiekins wrote a review Review · May 26, 2013

A pretty flower laced with the light of gold
whispering the secrets of the old ---- the secrets of old... if you say the old it sounds like theres something this age is descibing
softer and softer, until the sun falls away, you have an extra space after the first softer
'til should be written like this

2nd stanza - becomes you put a V in it ;) I really enjoyed the stanza especially the imagery of the world sharing the light of the moon. That's what I always think about when I stare at the moon.

I do enjoy the ending but its a little confusing to me. I guess the secret of old is some kind of pure enjoyment in the moonlight but saying its their darkest will makes it seem kind of evil personification of the flowers.



You are in the wrong land even if the roosters recognize you.
— Nathalie Handal, "Noir, une lumière"