Owls hoot, and bats fly blind,
As darkness fills these lands.
Spookiness, a weird kind
Sets trembling in the hands.
The moon peeps through bleak cloud,
To light earth’s dark domains.
Whistles shriek, screeching loud,
From distant racing trains.
The echoes ride the night,
Troubling our anxious souls.
Then as the skies turn bright,
One’s sanity patrols.
Why is it we feel fear,
When all is inky black.
We’re scared when things aren’t clear,
And nervous of attack.
Bats and owls have no dread,
When daylight fills the miles.
They go to sleep instead,
Inside their domiciles.
© Ernestine Northover
A dramatic poem full of contrasts - the black and the white, the day and the night, the fear and the light. Love the irony in your last stanza and the title is brilliant. love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
Owls can see through the gloom and look to the new day for a peaceful slumber A lovely poem from a wonderful poetess who has remained true to not only her friends but also her art Love duncan X
Great poem Ernestine, things are more scary in the dark, lovely imagery as always, love Lynda xx
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i love this poem, darkness in a poem, sweet sounding and beautiful.. please keep it up!