May 9th 5:34 A.M

 The birds are singing while the sun creeps over the horizon of colors. The layers of my eyes wish for sleep, but I plead them into a few more clicks of my watch.  Bands I cannot recall sing into my small ears. Amazingly enough, I am concious. It doesn't feel thay way.

"I need sleep," My brain screams.

The corners of my soul start to get dry and dry and drier until it dries out and I can't see the paper anymore. I'm writing blindly now about how the weed met Miss Daisy. Yes Miss Daisy was so kind as to beckon Mr. Weed into her lovely presence of lavender and spring. He joined gladly, filling a lost space for a prostitute with a false love. Flutes of elves humm into my ears, smiling smiling smiling like the Chesire cat himself. Miss Daisy said,

"Layeth your filthy green petals upon my stem,"

"Oh Dear Daisy," He reasoned.

Orange hues play along my visage so daintily drapped with the finest of silks, coating my skin in gold. An empty feeling in the pit of my stomach with a crave for something good. What would the Geese say if they saw me like this? Droopy eyed and tired, hungry, and thinking up fairytales with prostitute forgetting flowers and weeds falling in love. God made the night so he could see his diamonds in the sky because the ones he planted in the earth aren't paying his word any attention. He's waiting for people like you and I to make the right decision, waiting for us to bring out the stars in ourselves. 

Author's Note

I was at a friends sleep over and I got really bored because everybody else was asleep so I wrote this as the sun was coming up. :) We watched Moulin Rouge, giving me the inspiration for the prostitute thing. Ha ha. If any of you haven't seen that movie I highly recommend you rent it. It is a little weird, but it is so sad in the end. :(

Reviews

[Sel Whiteley]

My mind is always overactive at night. It's often then that were deepest in thought.
A powerful write with great description and a lovely focus on texture and colour. I agree with Steve that the last three lines were the most elevated of the brilliant poem.
God made the night so he could see his diamonds in the sky because the ones he planted in the earth aren't paying his word any attention.
But I also adored the liturgical type language.

[Lydia]

Really really really a gorgeous poem. I have no critiques, just praise. Great write, you've got talent for sure :)

[Steve]

My mind always goes crazy with ideas before sleep to. I think this is my favourite shorter piece of yours, in my eyes you seem to write more deeply with every new poem.
Those last three lines about God creating the night to allow people the time and inspiration to mature (as I read it anyways)- this is good, super-good! I like the air of mystery, a kind of sad decadence that comes from early morning philosophising. The whole piece reads really well, great stuff M.

[Lexi Nicole]

I love this piece