The Midnight Hour Poem by Hazel Durham
The Midnight Hour
Daytime blues, waiting for the beguiling midnight hour,
The clock strikes twelve, my mind floats free above,
On an old rustic dream boat,
Sailing with a south-west wind, blowing on the wide blue ocean,
Plenty of time, for plenty of notions,
Reaching inwardly to the past, searching for that elusive magic potion,
Like a silky cream lotion, caressing my warm tingling body,
Music plays from my cherry red lips,
Like the sound of the haunting tune of the flute,
Your face appears before me, so endearingly cute,
My eyes hunt for your inner mysterious persona,
Sensations, celebrations, my first love,
With passions reaching so high above,
If only I had been wise then, played the game differently,
I wonder would you have loved me too,
The surprise is I still long for my sweet song,
Melody without melancholy,
Truth without your cunning,
A price to be paid,
To high for mixed up me,
The midnight hour has turned wickedly sour,
I long for the enchantment,
I long for me.
Aha bittersweet memories. I so lovd how u rhymd cute n flute. So nice to read u again. N dis was fabulous real life fantasia.
'twas a great reading....really a beautiful poem.... I was flowing throu' your words.... Such a wonderful poetry... Memories ne'er die as long as we've love Top marksss! ! !
Sweet sorrow of nostalgia. Beautiful write my dear poetess. I love it
You've reminded me of those wild feelings of first love Hazel.....alas they don't survive if they are not reciprocated. In those early days there is no pain as bad as unrequited love. Another fine write from the heart.....Great work!
your every write is not to criticise or seek any comment but realse after which a long breath is needed to take. reading of your poem means to set the soul free n let it fly breaking all shores of life. The surprise is I still long for my sweet song, Melody without melancholy, Truth without your cunning, A price to be paid, To high for mixed up me, The midnight hour has turned wickedly sour, I long for the enchantment, I long for me.
your every write is not to criticise or seek any comment but realse after which a long breath is needed to take. reading of your poem means to set the soul free n let it fly breaking all shores of life. The surprise is I still long for my sweet song, Melody without melancholy, Truth without your cunning, A price to be paid, To high for mixed up me, The midnight hour has turned wickedly sour, I long for the enchantment, I long for me.
very beautiful written and as I say about most poems.... you have truly made me speechless.
What a poem! Your style is very new. Rhymes between gap. Sailing with a south-west wind, blowing on the wide blue ocean, /Plenty of time, for plenty of notions, / Reaching inwardly to the past, searching for that elusive magic potion, . Well done, Hazel. You poem is like you.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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12/6/2025 9:32:01 PM # 1.0.0
Hi. Awesome! but I can see a tragic shift of attitude from ethereal optimism to an earth bound cynicism. Poetry moves through our lives or simply we live poetry? ? ?