Late Tales of a Poetic Insomniac

I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night

And 3 am knows all my secrets, so I will just lay

on the prairie across the muddied moor and sleep tight.

The verbena stricta will lean in and kiss away

the insomnia that burdens my anticipated dreams.

Now the moon shines bright, those wispy clouds move aside,

and that lustrous silver beams down onto the land.

The lilac hue of the flowers, incandescent and divine-

This angelic atmosphere of the hills is grande.

The grass, the flowers, and the moon thread together in the seams.

Mother Earth is glowing, vibrant with the hues of the universe!

Purples and blues; blacks and pinks!

This corporeal grace will always transverse

my pain with serenity that sinks

Into the never ending cascade of the streams.