Of Softly In The Night

She does not come

At dawn’s appointed time,

When skies are pale

And stars begin to fade.

When drops of dew

Wake every sleeping flower,

And songbirds tribute

To the day is made.

She does not come

When noon in all its glory,

Is sometimes dazzled

By the ardent light.

And drowsy mayflies

Settle on the water,

To cool their wings

From vacillating flight.

But once the weary

Day embraces slumber,

The world is bathed

In blue seductive light.

She’ll gently fold her

Eager wings around me,

She comes softly with the night



  1. ayyyy…….es muy hermosoooo!

    Although, I don’t know why but while I read this, my very silly brain could only wander off to the recitations we made while I was still in highschool – this was catholic fyi. The most predominant of lines that popped in my mind was “Who is she that comes forth as the morning rising, fair as the moon, bright as the sun, terrible as an army set in a battle array”

    Liked by 1 person

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