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Woods At Night

 

 

 

Wild geese fly with the moon on their wings,
And a nightingale sits on a branch as it sings.
All is peaceful in the still of night, and the moon is shining very bright.
There’s only a rustle of a breeze in the trees,
And to night for sure there will be a freeze.
For the air is crisp, so crisp it will snap,
At the slightest sound, rustle or rap.
An owl skims slowly o’er the treetops.
It slowly circles ’round a tree and stops.
It sits and surveys the forest floor,
Captivated by mystery and woodsy lore.
For at night in the forest there’s gamey in the air,
And the wild fox now creeps out of its lair.
It yaps and the stillness is split with a knife,
Yet all else continues with no conflict or strife.

By Annette Bigger
Artist Lisa O’Malley

 

 

 

 

Text and image source: Snowwolfs Woodland Nook https://www.facebook.com/531188960392510/posts/1623379391173456/

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#Goodnight! . . . The hues of evening died





From hill and cloud and heaven
The hues of evening died
Night welled through lane and hollow
And hushed the countryside

By A.E. Houseman












Artist Mellissa Vincent
Text & image source: Snowwolfs Woodland Nook https://www.facebook.com/Snowwolfswoodlandnook/











Goodnight . . . go to sleep in peace.





“Have courage for the great sorrows of life and patience for the small ones;
and when you have laboriously accomplished your daily task,
go to sleep in peace. God is awake.” 

― Victor Hugo, Letters Vol.2 (1898 posth.)











Photo: Wahkeena Falls, Columbia River Gorge, Oregon – Adrian Blair image
Text & image source: Tom Woolley https://www.facebook.com/tom.woolley.12










Rhythms of the Night!




Crickets Singing.

In the warm evenings in the Fall of the year
The song of the crickets one always does hear
‘Tis the time of year when they do copulate
The dark male in song he does woo his dark mate.

From their homes in the walls they do venture out
And in search of a mate they go on hop about
From nightfall to daybreak they sing all night long
The voices of the crickets you cannot get wrong.

My wonder of Nature only seems to grow
So little about them I can claim to know
They sing out for love in the warm nights of the Fall
When they venture out from their homes in the wall

In shady dark places or in the moonlight
They sing out for love in the still of the night
Until the birds chirp in the gray of daybreak
The songs of the crickets one cannot mistake. 

by Francis Duggan










Artist Fritz Baumgarten
Text & image source: Snowwolfs Woodland Nook https://www.facebook.com/Snowwolfswoodlandnook/










Good-By, Sweet Day!






GOOD-BY, sweet day, good-by!
I have so loved thee, but I cannot hold thee.
Departing like a dream, the shadows fold thee;
Slowly thy perfect beauty fades away:
Good-by, sweet day!

Good-by, sweet day, good-by!
Dear were thy golden hours of tranquil splendor,
Sadly thou yieldest to the evening tender
Who wert so fair from thy first morning ray;
Good-by, sweet day!

Good-by, sweet day, good-by!
Thy glow and charm, thy smiles and tones and glances,
Vanish at last, and solemn night advances;
Ah, couldst thou yet a little longer stay!
Good-by, sweet day!

Good-by, sweet day, good-by!
All thy rich gifts my grateful heart remembers,
The while I watch thy sunset’s smouldering embers
Die in the west beneath the twilight gray.
Good-by, sweet day!

By Celia Thaxter










Artist Vian
Text & image source: Snowwolfs Woodland Nook https://www.facebook.com/Snowwolfswoodlandnook/










Day’s End



The twilight comes to cool the. air,
The shadows lengthen on the sod,
Soft breezes blow the garden through,
The leaves and blossoms sway and nod.

On garden path, in sheltering hedge,
In treetops dark and cloudless sky,
The evening birds awake to life,
To stir; to sing and upward fly.
And flowers, warm with summer heat,
Expand to greet the softened light
And shed, to show their gratitude,
A fragrance in the summer night.
Now all is peace. From meadows near
A cooling mist blows o’er the wall
And strangely lonesome in the night
There comes the thrush’s silvery call.

-EDWIN W. PROCTOR










Artist Dick Twinney
Text & image source: Snowwolfs Woodland Nook https://www.facebook.com/Snowwolfswoodlandnook/

Once in the dream of a night I stood



Once in the dream of a night I stood
Lone in the light of a magical wood,
Soul-deep in visions that poppy-like sprang;
And spirits of Truth were the birds that sang,
And spirits of Love were the stars that glowed,
And spirits of Peace were the streams that flowed
In that magical wood in the land of sleep.

Sarojini Naidu










Text & image source: Jana Eid https://www.facebook.com/jana.eid

Goodnight . . . . Day is dying in the west,



Day is dying in the west,
Heav’n is touching earth with rest,
Wait and worship while the night
Sets her evening lamps alight
Through all the sky.

Holy, holy, holy,
Lord God of Hosts!
Heav’n and earth are full of Thee!
Heav’n and earth are praising Thee,
O Lord, most high!

Lord of life, beneath the dome
Of the universe, Thy home,
Gather us, who seek Thy face,
To the fold of Thy embrace,
For Thou art nigh.

While the deepening shadows fall,
Heart of love, enfolding all,
Through the glory and the grace
Of the stars that veil Thy face,
Our hearts ascend.

– Mary A. Lathbury (1877-1879)

–Anthony Evans Photography ( Cosmeston Lakes Country Park, Vale of Glamorgan, Wales )

Text & image source: Tom Woolley https://www.facebook.com/tom.woolley.12