Posts Tagged ‘night’

Why art thou silent and invisible,
Father of Jealousy?
Why dost thou hide thy self in clouds
From every searching Eye? 

Why darkness and obscurity
In all thy words and laws,
That none dare eat the fruit but from
The wily serpent’s jaws?
Or is it because Secresy gains females’ loud applause? 

Are not the joys of the morning sweeter
Than the joys of the night?
And are the vig’rous joys of youth
Ashamed of the light? 

Let age and sickness silent rob
The vineyards in the night;
But those who burn with vig’rous youth
Pluck fruits before the light.



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The lights blink out in this dark world;
A viral blackness spread
By a contagion devil-hurled,
With hearts its breeding bed.

The darkness never knows the light;
The two can’t co-exist.
Night’s never day, day never night;
Impossible a tryst.

Before light, darkness has no might;
A distant glimpse – it flees.
It cannot offer any fight,
Nor beg upon its knees.

The dark compares itself to night,
And rates itself quite high.
For blackness thinks that it is white
Since light is never nigh.

The Lord God’s like the brightest day,
No shadow or a cloud
Moves o’er His just and holy way.
No darkness is allowed.

So men who love the darkness flee;
They hide till He appears.
They will His brightness briefly see,
Then evermore shed tears.


© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2014.

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And In Many Seasons

In the spring,
Two flowers in bloom –



The Bright, The Black

Rare picture
Both sun’s light, night’s dark.
Two beauties.



Who Sees?

Does the sea
See love hanging there?
Do we see?


Seasons – photo by Maciej Lewandowski at

Bright – photo by Manu Mohan at

Sees – photo by Miguel Saavedra at


* The haiku I write are lines of 3-5-3 syllables instead of 5-7-5.

See Haiku article here for explanation, if needed: https://thebardonthehill.wordpress.com/2011/08/08/haiku/


© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2014.

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Slowly, silently, now the moon
Walks the night in her silver shoon;
This way, and that, she peers, and sees
Silver fruit upon silver trees;
One by one the casements catch
Her beams beneath the silvery thatch;
Couched in his kennel, like a log,
With paws of silver sleeps the dog;
From their shadowy cote the white breasts peep
Of doves in a silver-feathered sleep;
A harvest mouse goes scampering by,
With silver claws and a silver eye;
And moveless fish in the water gleam,
By silver reeds in a silver stream.

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In innocence, the night began,
Like most of nights, by far.
But shortly after Sun had set
Two brutes raised heads to war.

The pig cloud and the dog tree were                                              
Outlines against the sky.
The fun began when lightning leapt
And struck the pig cloud’s eye.

The pig blinked not, but winked a bit,
And said it was a grin
He’d flashed across the evening.
His lie, not he, was thin.

He laughed as if it tickled him.
He snorted loud and roared
From rumblings deep within his bowels.
He was, and was not, boared.

The dog tree bobbed his head and howled,
As pig cloud belched the wind.
Dog’s boughing neck and branching legs
Did rub and creak and bend.

Dog would have wagged his tail at Pig –
…The problem, I suppose,
Was that his tail was rooted deep
Beside a rising rose.

Instead, he tossed his head about
To watch as Pig approached.
And would he run away with Pig?
The subject was not broached.

The whipping wind ripped some of Dog –
The eyes, ears, nose, and throat.
The pig cloud cried to see his plight,
Enough to fill a boat.

But dog trees grow more playful when
A pig cloud comes to call.
And so the dog tree barked and jumped,
And joined in the brawl.

Like dinosaurs they thrashed about,
Like monsters in the deep;
They raged and stormed most of the night,
So no one else could sleep.

Before the dawn could shine upon
Their comic-tragic end,
The pig had rained himself away,
And dog had lost to wind.

That night was such that folks would say,
“Not fit for man nor beast.”
But Pig of Cloud and Dog of Tree
Had fun, to say the least.    


© Dennis Lange and thebardonthehill.wordpress.com, 2011.

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