By Dan Skorbach

The tired eyes have earned their time for resting
The mind won’t think and feet will move no more,
And when the smallest pillow seems a blessing
That’s when the night is almost at your door.
And as she enters, with her comes the wonders
Echoing hum of leafy giant trees.
You are asleep while she with magic ponders
Which path to take beyond the seven seas.
She stands there still and with her spooky presence
It’s hard to tell what’s stirring through her mind.
Will she be sweet tonight or use the essence
Of all that’s dark and all that’s undefined.
A silent clap and you’ve been swiftly stolen
So tight she has you in her ghostly grasp.
So many men beneath her spell have fallen
Only the Moon avoids her daily trap.
She doesn’t come alone, with her the wicked,
The cunning,  neither human neither ghost,
But they must come so that you and I can pick
The beauty to whom the sunny day is host.

Dan Skorbach is a businessman and poet living in Toronto, Canada.

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