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Friday, 29 October 2010


The night blossoms as it claims back its fair lady,
O silent companion of mine...
She treads soft-clad, pawing cautiously the unfamiliar stage,
The pallor of the spotlight.

The whip of a bat's wing is her orchestra,
The strangled call of a bird frozen in flight,
Warns her prey to retreat into their hollows,
The moon turns away with grieved countenance.

Her eyes glow like a fire replenishing itself; the eyes of a huntress!
And her coat is as grey as the smoke that smothers,
Her body stops corpse-still,
But her tail so expressive, betrays her...

Yet when morn comes she is no longer betrothed to the darkness,
She stretches drowsily along the windowsill and rumbles contentedly,
Beguiling me with glass-green eyes; not of malice or envy,
But a rare kind of trust, a treasured love.

© Florence Challender 2010


  1. Your poems are so amazing!!! I've read them all and this is my favourite so far, looking forward to the next ones you post :D

  2. Hi Florence,
    I love your work honestly it runs on the same lines as mine. I have tried in vain to find your contact details but haven't been able to.

    I'm linking you to my blog below

    Please drop ion and leave a comment with an e-mail address I can reach you at.


  3. i like ur poems

  4. Amazing poem here, the glory of a being of darkness with all it's mesmerizing splendor