The Wee Small Hours.

Time, the wee small hours.

Streets quiet, no noisy cars.

Weather cool.

Wearing my overcoat made from pure lambs wool.

Dark sky sparkles like a christmas tree.

Astral beauty my green eyes see.

Walking alone and my mind at peace.

From everyday reality these wee small hours do release.

A black cat does cross my path.

Oh good luck i say, then i sarcastically laugh.

Soon these streets will be paved with people.

In the distance i see the towns gothic church steeple.

House windows all have their curtains drawn.

Soon they\'ll be opened when dusk reaches dawn.

I near my home, my humble abode.

This walk done me good, for the day ahead it has put me in survival mode.