Night poetry easily lends itself to being love poetry. Take this classic favorite from Lord Byron…
She Walks in Beauty
She walks in beauty, like the night
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;
And all that’s best of dark and bright
Meet in her aspect and her eyes;
Thus mellowed to that tender light
Which heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less,
Had half impaired the nameless grace
Which waves in every raven tress,
Or softly lightens o’er her face;
Where thoughts serenely sweet express,
How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,
So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,
The smiles that win, the tints that glow,
But tell of days in goodness spent,
A mind at peace with all below,
A heart whose love is innocent!
—Lord Byron
Where Lord Byron left off, modern song-writers have picked up. Enjoy our new themed playlist, with its share of night love songs!
Poetry Prompt
Try your hand at a night love poem, wherein you compare the beloved to some aspect of the night. Take it further than Byron (he mentions only the stars). Or, if you want to mention the stars, get specific. There is more than one kind of star shining in the dark of the universe. If you like, grab a line from one of our playlist night songs and use it as the title of your poem.
Thanks to our participants in last week’s poetry prompt. Here’s a recent fun little poem we enjoyed from Nancy…
cool cat
barely tame
says that poetry is her game
Photo by Beshef, Creative Commons, via Flickr.
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Sometimes we feature your poems in Every Day Poems, with your permission of course. Thanks for writing with us!
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Maureen Doallas says
Yes and No
One stays. The other goes
just as the velvet mantle
of midnight falls, dwarf stars
unable to plead their light
in the space between
her yes, his no.
Richard Maxson says
Maureen,
I love the image of a dwarf star that has lost its light.
The repetitive “oh” sound is very effective.
Beautiful compact poem.
Elizabeth W. Marshall says
Love the velvet mantle image, and I am crazy for this line Maureen, “dwarf stars unable to plead their light”. Perfectly beautiful, fresh and lovely. But then I hope you know I have been a fan of your poetry for a very long time.
Maureen Doallas says
Thank you, Richard and Elizabeth. I very much appreciate your comments here.
Richard Maxson says
After Dreams
In the mornings as sleep leaves us slowly,
we are one body, like the waters of the oceans.
Your fragrance enters me the way light entwined
itself into the fabric of night and, while we slept,
found its way through louvers and lies unseen
in the folds of yesterday’s tossed clothes.
Even before my eyes open to the room
as we had left it, I am listening to the first birds,
like sailors, long at sea, listen for the gulls.
I do not look into the night of the room,
I wait for the first whisper of your voice,
like morning waves breaking softly on a new shore.
Maureen Doallas says
Lovely, Richard.
Elizabeth W. Marshall says
Beautiful. Peace within these lines. Such lovely peace.
Richard Maxson says
Sleepless
Cedar tree
moonlight
open window
warm night
let me sleep
Mockingbird
let me weep
sweet words
I’m weary now
it’s all right
fly away
good-night
Elizabeth W. Marshall says
love the whimsy, brevity, and wit.
Maureen Doallas says
I like how each line creates a pause to let each image exist unencumbered. The poem begs to be read aloud.
Richard Maxson says
Thanks for your comments Maureen and Elizabeth.
Donna says
This is so much fun to read aloud!
Elizabeth W. Marshall says
All Night Long, All Night
She slept in search of pillow’s cold side
Alone, on her own
Side, of a great divide
Invisible line drawn down
The middle
Of the night, all night long, all night
She slept, he slept, they slept with rings of gold
Dreaming
Together, held, crossing over from sleep
To wake
Lines between the two blurred now, down
The middle
Of the night, all night long, all night
And still, the darkest part
Finds her dangling between
Asleep. Awake
Alone, not true,
There are two
Sides of a pillow, the warm, the cold.
The dawn’s light breaks through window
Pane,
Right down the middle of their bed,
And she awakes remembering
Her thoughts, her words, her poems
That kept her working, writing through the night
All night long, all night long, all night.
Maureen Doallas says
This calls to mind a friend’s post yesterday, in which she talked about her word for 2014: “onement”. I told her that the painter Barnett Newman had created a series with that word. In one work, Newman painted a red line down the middle of his monotone canvas (in others in the series, the line is a different color and sometimes the line is not vertical but side to side). For him, the line both divided and unified, was both of the space and not.
There’s something of that in this poem: sharing a bed but experiencing an aloneness in it; sometimes a coming together, sometimes a being apart.
Richard Maxson says
The dichotomies in this provide marvelous tension:
she/he
warm/cold
asleep/awake
dreaming/working
dark/light
The blur of dreaming and working, as if she is working in a dream state, where she has to remember working. Somehow the title gives me a distinction between all night long (working) and all night (dreaming).
I really like this.
Elizabeth W. Marshall says
Richard and Maureen, your feedback, comments and insights are GREATLY appreciated. Thank you thank you.
Unknown Poetry says
to love the night
to love you is
to love the night,
i cannot put
my arms around,
in darkness still
you hold me.
world away
or quarter day,
mountains left
to climb.
Laura Brown says
Thanks, Cyndi Lauper.
Stray Cat Is Crying So Stray Cat Sings Back
I’m wet and cold and shivery.
I have a scrap of towel.
There’s nothing here to huddle in.
I have a cardboard box.
I haven’t eaten a thing today.
I have a turkey leg.
The dark is a darker dark tonight.
I’m under a halogen lamp.
Sorry I hissed at you today.
Forgiven, forgotten, yo.
Will you share those things with me?
Come. Now. Meow.
Richard Maxson says
The comparison you make is very poignant. Directly indirect.
Elizabeth W. Marshall says
Laura, ah I get to see your poetry. And I like it very very much. I hear you in every line. Your voice is the poem. Bravo.
Laura Brown says
The second line of each couplet should be indented about 3 tabs’ worth of space.
Richard Maxson says
I’m not sure you need to make the indent. I read this a couple times before I got that a dialog was going on and the realization was part of the punch.
Laura Brown says
Hm. Maybe not. Thanks for reading enough to get it! The title is a line from the Cyndi Lauper song in the night playlist. So it’s (spoiler alert!) a conversation between the two cats.
Marcy Terwilliger says
Darkness has descended,
Silence etched in my mind.
As I peer out the window
the moon is full of itself, like you.
Can’t escape the feelings,
the closeness that it brings.
Like your warm breath on my neck
as you pretend to sleep.
You whisper softly in my ear,
those words, you always do.
Ones that make me turn over and
face you.
We become intertwined.
You’ve always been my mystery,
I always have the clue.
Vivid visions fill my mind,
Is it morning or is it noon.
Richard Maxson says
Love: “…the moon is full of itself, like you.”
Donna says
Me too…!
Elizabeth W. Marshall says
Not Your Webster’s Definition
Somewhere between
Morning has broken
And Goodnight Moon
Sometime after praying
But before rising, again
Breathing out and breathing in
Someone said you can sleep when you die
She never liked that, no not at all
Sometime between dreaming
And mind racing, chasing silly nightmares
And monsters down the stairs
Somewhere between comatose and rest
Doze and snooze
Linger and longing
And counting sheep
She lay me down to
sleep
Richard Maxson says
This reads like a wonderful portrait of a mother. “Somewhere between/Morning has broken/And Goodnight Moon” — what a great way to establish a timeline.
Donna says
my love
like the midnight sky
is either with me
or on his way
my love
like the starlit heavens
speaks of endlessness
without words
my love
like quiet darkness
fills me with light
to be held, not seen
Richard Maxson says
Beautiful love poem, Donna.
Donna says
Thanks Richard 🙂
mark says
The Sun reflects upon the moon
The promise of another day
I close my eyes and dream of you
Since you have been away
I wake to a touch upon my brow
The light has come again
My eyes open and there you are
My dream – the promise upon the moon