Midnight

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They said I could sing, and make it sound beautiful

But another's words

Are not my words

And are not boisterous songs too plentiful?

For though I would want a silent day

It is a curious silence

A faulty silence.

Never complete anyway.

Under this silver birch I could whisper

But I shall listen,

Just sit and listen.

To the way the wind has kissed her

If you would join me, just follow my smile

Though hard to find

There is so much to find

And you can pause here for a while.

The sun rises in the moon's ash

Burning in a lullabye

Striking a hushabye

For the end of night's grey sash.

Let the moon to it's silver bed

And this simple song

Our quiet song

Will ring softly in our heads.

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