Shadows creep stealthily across the lawn, <br />Whilst night, unruffled, defies the dawn, <br />And the moon released from day's embrace, <br />Smiling, wakes up and shows his face <br />To this mystic world of the twilight hours, <br />When all our inherent courage cowers, <br />And the ghostly darkness closes in, <br />With haunting sounds of unknown origin, <br />As each creature ventures out, scurrying, <br />And time ticks along, but never hurrying, <br />It's then, when all strange murmurings fade away, <br />That the moon, returns to the embrace of the hours of day. <br /> <br />© Ernestine Northover<br /><br />Ernestine Northover<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/twilight-hours/
