THE GIFT

It's such a peaceful time, when they're all tucked up in bed.

As I sit and ponder, breathing in the still night air

I wonder how many kindred souls

soak up these precious hours....

No demands on my time

no one to disturb my train of thought

no interruptions from a television

that simply must be switched on

doesn't anyone sit in silence anymore?

I love to read, but I do it quietly, 

so as not to disturb others

but they...?

Never mind, I enjoyed the dream.

I'm alone with my thoughts

yet not lonely

for, as a bard so long ago said

" 'tis such stuff as dreams are made of ".

A dog barks in the distance

assuring the night he's still in command.

A car door slams

coming... or going? It matters not

then all is still.

As I sit among my potted plants

a cicada serenades the stars

daring them to find his hiding place.

The soft, sweet scent of frangipanni

mingles with the heady scent of jasmine

the ferns are gently stirred by an elusive breeze

the worries of the day are far away.

How I love the still of the night

God's gift to frazzled souls.

Crissouli (c)