Of Stars And Frogs: The Denizens Of Night Poem by Midnight Clarity

All the stars are singing
some soft, some loud
as dark and diamonds
roll out across the sky
and sleep comes calling
with a voice so sweet
the honey pot goes green
and turns away;
breath stirs against the pillow
a gentle sign of not yet final rest
and morning is a promise
the ticking clock counts out
not yet, not yet.
Eyelids closed are moving,
a stuttered rush of pictures
that catalogues the day just closed
making room for dreams
to grow, stretch wings
like faeries poised to fly.
Lips purse and pucker
shaping words no one will hear
a gentle mutter fading to a buzz
of gentle snores while frogs
play at being stars and sing.