at would-be bedtime

the street’s deserted here
at would-be bedtime,
the sky has laid its blanket
o’er my head

it tells a tale
of wonder and of splendor,
of tables made of stars
and gingerbread

and as the wind blows chill
i dream of fireside,
and tales of castles,
palaces and kings

the world is empty, here
at would-be bedtime,
the perfect time for all
fantastic
things

Author: Sibelius Russell

Sibelius Russell (a/k/a/ Owen "Beleaguered" Servant) lives a life of whimsical servitude -- whatever that means.

Leave a Reply if you want. It's your life.

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

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 )

Google+ photo

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

Connecting to %s