It is very late and I was about to go off to bed but, of course, I am doing my usual post night shift awake thing. I stepped outside for just a moment and the soft sounds of this humid night along with the moon veiled in misty clouds, turned my fatigue to enchantment. Now I think I should go a sit for a bit underneath the stars. Perhaps I will get back to my “night writing” as this is when it all used to happen, nights spent sitting with my thoughts. Those thoughts are busy these days and I find myself wanting to withdraw from the world at large and lose myself in magical places once again.
‘Tis moonlight, summer moonlight,
All soft and still and fair;
The solemn hour of midnight
Breathes sweet thoughts everywhere,
But most where trees are sending
Their breezy boughs on high,
Or stooping low are lending
A shelter from the sky.
And there in those wild bowers
A lovely form is laid;
Green grass and dew-steeped flowers
Wave gently round her head.