poorrichardsramblings

Night Things

When the nights are hot I sometimes 

Like to sit outside, 

At least until I can no longer tolerate

The bugs,

The night things watch close by,

I’ll catch a glint of a iridescent eye,

If they let me, 

 

I am never frightened, 

Not of the night things,

Their company provides 

Comfort, 

Rather 

When I climb into bed

I shiver,

Even though the room smells

Of sweat,

 

So outside I stay,

Till I can resist 

The temptation of dreams 

No longer.