As the midnight hour approaches
All the evil things encroaches
On all the living and the dozy
As they sleep in bed all nice and cosy
Weaving magic above their heads
Some will wake in the morning
Some will not
Some will awaken before then, in shock!
As nightmares are woven above their heads
Spinning yarns of fate on fine threads
No one knows what waits for them
In the morning, an evil fate or a shining gem
It is always a new dawning
And the fates never give a warning
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library lovin', backlist browsin', SFF reader...
I'm a shattered mirror. Poetry holds my broken pieces together.
Your Daily Dose of Cute Dogs
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A blog for those who can never put down a book
Daydreaming and then, maybe, writing a poem about it. And that's my life.
forest gardening in Scotland and beyond
A safe place to talk openly about mental health & illness
I LEAVE YOUR ROAD TO WALK ON MY GRASS.
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