I know what time it is
At your place five past three
Night's thinning for goodbye kiss
You are sunk in poetry!
Moon seeks recline to west
Stars are craving dawn of sun
Yet your mind hasn't found rest
Chasing words on the free run!
Go to sleep angel tarry not
Before the fire burns you whole
For the coming day spare a thought
Close eyes till the night is coal!
You need to stop before hours grow small
Birds wake up in dewy rain
Rest my angel can't catch them all
Your poems of joy and pain!
Some of the best poetry is written in the wee hours of the morning.
A very well crafted poem.......so beautifully composed......I liked it Sir
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A poet absorbed in his/ her creative thoughts never is conscious of the passage of time! The stillness of the night is best suited for wooing the Muse! Beautiful poem!