The Quiet Hours Poem by Bryan Norton

The Quiet Hours



Beneath a midnight moonlight view
Where creatures gather two by two
A chirping cricket chorus plays
Until my nervous system frays

The boom boom sound of racing cars
That zoom zoom zoom beneath the stars
Is driving me to yell and scream
From crashing every pleasant dream

The fireworks are shooting still
To keep me up against my will
Nobody cares that I can't rest
From all the noise that I detest

Intrusively a siren sound
Invigorates a hapless hound
To hold in hopeless harmony
His howling histrionically

The dark of night is nearly gone
A spark of light is turning on
I sought some quiet sleep at last
When someone gave their horn a blast

The morning sun outside won't wait
And I am tired of sleeping late
A good night's rest restored my powers
Thank goodness for the quiet hours.

Friday, December 23, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: humor
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Bryan Norton

Bryan Norton

Napa, California
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