The Silent Hours

As night accepts the stormy sky
And cooler winds begin to sigh
I wrap myself in velvet black.
I feel its strength as it pulls back

The curtains to let in my dreams.

At last the tattered daylight seems
To fade into the quietness;
No boundaries, no need to impress.

There’s simply me and solitude.

My heartbeats fill this interlude
And thoughts are free to dance at will
Or simply lie until they fill

The silent hours drifting past.

I’ve come to see myself at last
As one content to be alone,
To taste the years my life has sown.

© 2011  Pam H. Murray

NOTE:  This was inspired by Emily Dickenson and Charlotte Bronte, whom I've loved since childhood,.  I always pictured them writing alone at night.