Late Night Wanderers
Claire Howland
In the red evening,
Surrounded by flowers
She stands;
Secretive, luring.
Leafy green branches
Entwined around
Her pale, outstretched wrist.
Dressed in ebony and ivory,
Eyes shining blue,
She waits and wonders,
Hoping for someone
To appear and take her
By the hand.
When she wandered out
Into dusky garden
Away from the party,
She didn’t think to tell
Of where she was going.
Forgot the time;
Now stands alone
After the party has
Ended.
Flowers around her head
Hang limp, forlorn,
Same as she feels now.
Abandoned, deserted
In the locked grounds.
Everyone gone,
Will they return?
But out of a bush,
Comes forgotten face
Returning too from
Late night walk,
To meet her, greet her
With outstretched hands
As silk meets lace
And gold meets black.
In the middle of the night
They roam;
Hand in hand,
Forgotten by family, friends.
Together they go,
Ghosts in the night,
Wandering in the
Deserted garden.
Till morning breaks
And a hand will return
With key to unlock the gate.
Ghosts will turn to angels
As they return home,
To love, light, laughter.
But will not forget
The sparkling magic
Of a night spent together
In the deserted garden.