night

Night [Haqueian Verse]

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Haqueian Verse

Night,


Is so dark,


Like the beloved’s,


Silky hair,


Right!

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Frivolity in the Midst of Danger

Come on, take my hand.

There’s a stunning carnival

Right in front of us.

 

It lights up the night

Like a group of fireflies.

 

Don’t you see that we have

A chance to rule the night?

 

So what are you waiting for?

 

There’s lots to do.

So much to see.

Our hearts will guide us.

No point in holding back now.

 

We only live once.

We can’t waste this time away.

The night is so young,

But baby, so are we at heart.

 

The park is stunning.

It’s everything that

I dreamed of.

Why did I delay before?

 

Now that I’m grown up,

There’s no chains to hold me down.

 

Come on, take my hand.

The rest of our lives await!

 

Why are you so scared?

Is the rotating wheel barrel blocking our path?

Did the power outage cause your heart to beat so loud?

 

Intensive moments build up character and bravery.

Your fears are below you now.

 

The storm may have

Crashed the party,

 

But that’s not how I see it.

Being so close to danger

 

Puts what we’ve learned to the test.

So let’s stand our ground.

And not wait until tomorrow.

 

The park is stunning.

It’s everything that

I dreamed of.

Why did I delay before?

 

Now that I’m grown up,

There’s no chains to hold me down.

 

Come on, take my hand.

The rest of our lives await!

Night And Day And Night

 

 

 

 

 

 

Night And Day And Night

 

Only the dark sky

can show a sheen like velvet

during the nighttime








Author's Notes/Comments: 

Ditto.

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Insomnia, The Long Night

The long night, one of many.

 

A person glances at a clock radio.

 

They are neither asleep nor awake.

 

They lie there, uncomfortable, restless.

 

Their mind races away, teasing them with scenarios of ruin.

 

The seconds tick by, slowly.

 

The person longs for sleep,

 

Or for dawn, for a new day.

 

An hour later, they remain awake,


Unable to relax, but unable to think properly.

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A Peaceful Night

The moon, near but distant, full and brooding.

 

The mysterious glow of light that rests upon the surface of a lake,

 

Casting shadows on the water.

 

Shapes.

 

Tones of colour.

 

The whisper of a breeze, the rustle of hedges.

 

The moon hides behind a cloud.

 

All is still.

 

The observer walks away.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I often compare creative writing to painting, and I particularly like to paint with words. 

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The Deserted Pathway

The car starts to slow its pace,

 

Weaving down a trail with bumps in the ground,

 

A deserted path, hidden by trees, leading to nowhere.

 

The vehicle turns, twisting, scraping against hedges and bushes,

 

The car stops, the engine dies.

 

Outside, the sleet and rain splatter, the night wind wailing like a banshee.

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Winter Night

Night falls,


 

The sky dark and silent,


 

The moon in the distant,


 

A crescent barely visible.


 

The temperature drops,


 

A freeze that hovers,


 

Tormenting, merciless cold.


 

Winter.

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Tonight

Sheltering a full covering; starlights
Are on, the rocks are bright
Beauties. The night, a king
Him darker still a-crowding
All on those hours, late.
Shadow's heavy weight
Lulls us deep to dream,
Hell or heavenly streams
Upon them, we sleep
Quietly as they seep
Between the open hands,
Of Glass, the sand,
Between the cross-ways,
We walk always.

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Flying across London at night

Flying across London at night

By jfarrell

 

Look up, and use the stars, the constellations to navigate;

Looking down on London, at night, is the same.

The lights, of landmarks, vehicles….

 

When I first flew with my dragon, I was so lost.

 

But, look down…

The perfect ring of red light,

With a bulge of multicoloured madness below it…

That’s the London Eye (big wheel) and the Southbank area.

 

The elusive, silvery eel that borders that is the Thames;

Look left, look right, follow the silvery trails and the boats…

You’ll find bridges…

And once you’ve identified one bridge…

 

You know where you are, flying over London at night.

 

But I would not recommend flying a dragon over London;

I know they’re cars, boats and trains…

But Karla thinks they’re little bugs

All with with fantastic flavours….

 

We crashed, that first time, opposite Waterloo Station…

Taxi cab had been converted into a fresh coffee bar…

Covered in coffee beans and grounds…

Karla stood up and gave a flaming belch….

 

Even the cab owner agreed, coffee never tasted so good,

Roasted at about a billion degrees…

By a 15 foot chocolate bar…

I really should ask Karla to put some clothes on…

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

anyone know where i can buy a London-wide safety net? my dragon wont wear a saddle or harness....

and i must have been off sick when my school had horse and dragon riding lessons...

;-)

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