Amid a crowd of stars we rest,
souls made of flaming stardust,
that light dark and deep city skies
when the sun sets
and the moon fails to set forth,
and the night is pitched in layers of black.
Amid the path of sweet moonlight,
we dance and twirl,
sticking arms out to catch loose dreams
when restless love
keeps us awake at night.
Amid serene dreams, behind closed eyes,
we wonder where the worlds treasures are found,
and plan sunflower yellow happy-days,
when the pain does not get to us,
and the tears are washed away.
Amid the sweetest silence of the night,
that drips over our heads like sugary honey,
whispers travel further distances,
and voices hush to a bare minimum,
for they fear their hearts deepest layers will be heard,
instead distractions of laughter break the transparent film.
Amid the shaded colors of blacks,
are lost moments of lost wanderers,
walking through the crooked sidewalks
and through the sheltering necks of trees.
Moments of friendship and love,
and all those good and bad thoughts,
the fireflies fluttering in their subconscious brain.
Amid soft silk covers,
atop crumpled and ripped sheets,
lie dreamers and lovers,
over-worried souls and those tired laborers.
Where layers of heart and mind
are peeled back
and the days darkest minutes
are left afloat as young and old minds
rest with temporary peace.
And amid all the nights unbelievable serenity
I lie restless and awake,
drowned in smiling conversation of friends
and looming shadows of odd stabbing worry.
The night a red ribbon-tied gift more intricate,
more beautiful,
than the days and their chaotic hustle and bustle,
and the moon rules with a little bit more royalty
even though the sun glitters gold,
because the moon lies lazily,
amid a crowd of brilliant stars.
This comes from an emulation done in class. The original poem is “When You Are Old” by WB Yeats. I took the last line “amid a crowd of stars” and it inspired me to write this poem. The poem focuses on the beauty of the night. For some odd reason, while writing this poem, I kept thinking of the “Starry Night” painting by Vincent Van Gogh. It was also one of the first thoughts that came to my mind when I first read the line “amid a crowd of stars” hence my poem formed its way to talk about the night. I highlighted the last few lines as I feel like they stood out to me, and I would have to say that they are my favourite lines from this poem. In fact, reading these lines on their own gives a short and beautiful poem as well.