Richard M. Ankers - Author

In the lavender light of a born again moon,

As the owls do hoot and the alleycats croon,

I wait for the moment where magic meets night

And all of the real things melt with the light.

A time when reality melds with the fay,

The werewolves howl and red hoods run away;

Fantastical journeys await round each brick

And the promise of wands when you pick up a stick,

That’s what I await as I stand in the dark

In the middle of midnight besides the old park.

Perhaps it will be that this night brings my dream,

Or evilest horrors await my next scream?

In truth, I don’t care if it’s one or the next,

As the real world I live in just leaves me perplexed.

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