Nightfall

A Pleiade poem for dverse. The painting is Night by Burne-Jones.

Night_by_Edward_Burne-Jones_(1870)

Night falls soft as tree feathers,
Naming Erebus in their
North wind voices, silver spun,
Nautilus-spiralled treasures.
Numbing Hypnos lulls this hoard
Nurtured in sleep for earth-dark
Nyx with her basket of stars.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

53 thoughts on “Nightfall”

  1. I like the way the gods wander into your poem, Jane. It’s a celestial lullaby. And I love a poem that retains perfect grammar. You are so good at rhythm and pace, and it never seems forced.

    1. Nyx brought the rest of them in. On my own I wouldn’t have got it, I don’t think.
      I don’t strive for perfection, but I do respect the language and the meaning of the words. A poem is meant for other people, and if doesn’t make any sense, it’s just self-indulgence. My opinion anyway.

  2. Love the painting choice here. And your poem is almost like a lullaby starting with that first line: “Night falls soft as tree feathers,” From there we are lulled by the following lines. And the last line made me smile. Just as I imagine I do dozing off at night with a final positive thought before I close my eyes. What a lovely way to begin my Thanksgiving morning, reading words like these.

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