The Night Was Dark Poem by Raz Nicholson

The night was dark,
And the moon hung in a beggar's hood.
The spindle birch,
Reached like a hand asking to take,
A moment of time if I'd just wait,
The hairs rose upon my neck and my head did shake
The breeze moved the arm,
As if the beggar now asked to trade because i hesitate.
I looked again,
Astounded as a shooting star made him wink at me.
Towards the back of my mind,
I felt i was being fleeced.
I laughed aloud as i realised he'd bested me.
Not a trade at all,
A favour he had made me give
(My) moment in time, to see his good grace
And I'm glad he did,
Now I wait for the split second chance, to repay,
The beauty of the beggar's generosity.