Night Games

The sinking sun now leaves the sky,
and rush of day has passed us by.
Crickets chirp and late bird calls,
day’s shadows fail, night’s curtain falls.

The rasping croaks of frogs now boom,
like banshees howling from their tomb.
The screech of owls in search of prey,
join in night’s chorus, dark and grey.

The moon casts out its ghostly light,
and lends its power to feed the night.
The landscape now is grim and bleak,
and cloaks death’s deadly hide and seek.

Before the rising of the morn’,
victors fed, and victims torn.
With all of this, hid from our sight,
cloaked by the veil we know as night.

As morning light once more appears,
a new day’s chorus greets our ears.
Night time’s deadly deeds are done,
it’s memories bleached by rising sun.

Ivor G Davies

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