He rides the horse of midnight,
Bounding through the dark, unseen.
With scythe in hand, and hooded cloak,
He’s something of a dream.
A disillusioned fantasy,
To nightmare corner swept,
But then his presence beckons,
While the angels shrank and wept.
Withdrawing to the background,
Fervor fades from thee,
Leaving only Lonely Horseman,
Who wants thy company.
He will not ask, but shall receive,
This gift thy pray to keep,
A simple touch upon your cheek,
Shall tumble you to sleep.
Lying on a bed of petals,
Romantic in his essence,
A peaceful burst of brilliance,
Sweet glow is evanescent.
Then on he moves from flowered ground,
To chase the next homestead,
Perched on the horse of midnight,
Bringing dreams upon the dead.

rose petals.jpg

If you enjoyed this, check out these other great poems from LG Rogers.

Seventeen Steps Below

The Low Spirit

Shadows of Things to Stay


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.