Twilight Hours
E
Ernestine Northover
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Shadows creep stealthily across the lawn,
Whilst night, unruffled, defies the dawn,
And the moon released from day's embrace,
Smiling, wakes up and shows his face
To this mystic world of the twilight hours,
When all our inherent courage cowers,
And the ghostly darkness closes in,
With haunting sounds of unknown origin,
As each creature ventures out, scurrying,
And time ticks along, but never hurrying,
It's then, when all strange murmurings fade away,
That the moon, returns to the embrace of the hours of day.
© Ernestine Northover
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