Middle Of The Night Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Trees bending over with the weight of the wind, crying softly
to all who are around to look up at the moon, clothed in
whitest night-satin clothes.

Tiny stars leading the way for all to follow, sparkling like
cobwebs up in the skies, capturing everyone's eyes and sending
them heavenward.

Loveliest of sights in the middle of the night causes peace-
filled love to stir inside.

Quietly bending, trying to hide this spectacular view from
sight, shadows fall and lightly cross darkened paths.

God silently blows the view to mind, even after I have left
and gone home.