John Snowdon

The Beauty of the Night

The Beauty of the Night

This beauty breaches from across the night

And brings subtle grace to bless her madness.

For life is too fair-weathered in the light,

While nightly comforts serve to slay such sadness.

 

It’s those evening choruses that sing like sirens

With Vesper playmates to hold their tunes,

And while the night is alive and vibrant

It’s the day’s surface that merely blooms.

 

And when Mistress Dawn arrives,

To cast the world in shadows,

It’s Mother Dusk who must revive.

And make the Dawn look shallow.

 

In waning hours come their desperate calls,

That should be celebrated and thus inspire.

As nocturnal delights still reside inside us all,

Bread by the first few flames of Grecian fire.

 

The night is Nature’s gift to us,

Through dim curtains comes but beauty\'s tame,

That masks the splendors of the virtuous

To gently ease the uncomelys’ pain