Pitch black clear night,
Bright stars soft sand,
There's not a soul in sight,
Not a sound in the land,
Quiet steps pass by,
Unheard unseen,
Through night they fly,
Leaving prints where they've been.
Silent and swift,
Hard to catch,
Through sand they drift,
And at tumbleweeds snatch,
Hiding by day,
Out of burning sun's sight,
One might say,
The horses own the Arabian night.
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Original Poems
PoezjaJust some of my better poems I've written that I'd like to share.
