Ernestine Northover

(25th March 1943)

** The Fading Sky

Dark clouds gather as the sun goes down.
Street lights illuminate the scene.
Trees set dark against the fading sky,
Eerie now, where daylight has been.
But the hours that travel through the night,
awaken in the morning light.

Branches whisper in a gentle way,
owls hoot, watching across the land.
Hunting their prey with tension so high,
for supper now is close at hand.
A breeze caresses the ground and weaves,
in and out among the dead leaves.

A vole who does not mind the dense dark,
will travel fast between the trees.
Inquisitive ones like mice and shrews,
cannot live their short lives at ease,
for there is always danger around,
so they’re alert to any sound.

It’s frightening if you walk here alone,
Within this unwelcoming place.
Spooky is the word that I would use,
My heart is beginning to race.
I must escape, if not I will scream,
what I’d give for a bright sunbeam.

Why is the pitch black so disturbing.
Giving one the shiver and shakes.
Ghosts and ghouls could be right behind you,
Oh, how ones whole body just quakes.
Come on daylight raise up your big sun,
So we can wake when night is done.

Submitted: Saturday, March 15, 2014
Edited: Thursday, March 20, 2014

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