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Click hereShe tiptoes through the darkened room
when sleep claims all but not her mind,
unanswered questions crowd the gloom.
She tiptoes through the darkened room
breathes in night gardens sweet perfume
caressing through the window blind.
She tiptoes through the darkened room
when sleep claims all but not her mind.
Poetry Survivor
Poets Choice
Damn girl, I wish I had written this poem. I love night flowering blooms (as you'll see when my next poem is finally put up for perusal). I do this all the time. Insomniacs of the world unite and surf the net late at night!