Midnight Poem by Suhel Akram

The lane lay clean,
With not even a dumped grain.
The dogs away in the huts,
With sloping tails and mouth shut.
The squirrels in a rush,
Through the forest and the green brush,
The stars in the sky glitters,
To share a glimpse of beauty to the nature,
The moon screaming its best light,
Deem and bright,
Reaching the beds through the grills,
Touching the soft baby's sight.
Reaching the gentle little buds,
Through the shrubs and beads,
Greeting the earth in rise,
Never which she can touch even in guise.
The owls away in the darkness to hunt,
Hanging out with the bats in the mounts,
The little mice busy in work,
Dreaming to empty the farmer's granary in the dark,
And the dead souls resting in peace,
Taking fresh air through the breeze,
Sitting aback at their graves,
With goofy hairs and bushy shaves.
All it's a sight of a mid-night,
When even the creator is sleeping tight.