poem I wrote last night...hot off the press ;)

The Night was Alive (with a thousand voices):

A whiff of night air,
Calls softly to me
But I as a child
Must go to bed.

“Hurry to bed,”
Yes, that’s what they say,
But the night is so calm
And the air so clean.

Nay, but it’s weighed
With a thousand small voices,
Each singing a song
Enticing to me

To smell and to leave
Is torture to me;
How much I do long,
To run quick outside

To sneak to the road
And dance out my heart,
Adding my voice,
To those thousands of others,

Weaving ‘mist spirits
Trapped in night air,
If only I could
Join them tonight.

“Hurry to bed,”
They urge me along,
Farewell, sweet small voices
Till some other night