Posted by: Ron DuBour | March 16, 2019

Deep, the Hours After Midnight~by Annie Johnson



Deep, the Hours After Midnight

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Deep, deep, are the hours after midnight.
Holy and quiet the pervading dreams.
The air is palpable as if saturated
With the pulsing heartbeat of the universe
Beating with the rise and fall of my breast.
No gloom in the sweet darkness, passing
Memories parade nostalgically like a slide-show
Past my quiescent mind in quiet reverie.
The night has a soft voice that whispers
In the shadowy corners and down the hallway
And tip-toes quickly past the pools of light
And the invading moonbeams through the window,
Stepping spryly to avoid the slumbering cat.
It is in this deep, deep yearning nether world
That I think of you and feel your presence most.
As if your spirit awaits these precious hours
Of dark solitude to come to me with love
And bring me breathless kisses and sweet caresses
That will last throughout the night’s tender mercy.

Annie Johnson©

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