A low melody is being played somewhere,
Soft, coaxing and pleasant.
Maybe it's the nightingale thats sings,
Or the trees that whisper secrets to one another,
In the refuge of the night.
It's a cloudless, moonlit night,
Beams of silver adorn the lanes,
Boulevards are lit up,
Orchards gleam,
From which waft delicious scents.
Harmonious peace is everywhere,
Silently graceful,
Elegantly charming.
One may drown in the beauty of it all,
And drift into blissful sleep,
Which is filled to the brim,
With dazzling dreams.
And it is these dreams,
Along with the eloquence of night time,
Which make everything come alive,
In this silent night of smiles.
YOU ARE READING
Muses
PoetryHere's a compilation of poems for you to enjoy. You'll find a mèlange of emotions here. Some sweet, some bitter. But at the end, you'll find yourself lost in the music of words, the rhythm of stanzas and the enchanting world of poetry.
