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The Night as a Good Knight or Glowering Grim
--- Creative Mood Writing on the Night Time---
Mood writing is evocative of the great classical writers, the masters of yesteryear. In The Mood Book's pages we absorb their craft via creative prose examples. The night has long been written of as the hours of coldness and fear; in the days before modern comforts our ancestors associated it with fright and shivering. Yet the black velvet that cossets the moon and stars can be symbolic of great hope. The night can be a cloak to camouflage and protect. So, let your inner moon shine bright, develop your twilight sight, and step into mood writing that feels right.
Written by Angela Abraham in 2024
Night of Black Ink-Wings Flight, Carry Me to Where Heaven's Stars Breathe Light.
--- Creative Mood Writing on the Night ---
A Night of Bold Courage and Magic
Ere long, save for the cosset of galaxies, we shall be safe in the folds of blackest night. Hold on! Hold on! Within her velvety breeze the grilling rubicund rays are snubbed to a smokeless nought. Upon the graphite path we shall skip, feet light. For nightfall can be a saviour, as heaven’s cooling sigh. From roots to boughs - come eventide - nature’s soul rebounds, reclaims her knights and guards them with a mother’s heart, writing her retort in inky starlight, “I keep what’s mine and evil beware, enemies find no quarter here.”
(Note: In old English the word "ere" means "before.")
Example One:
Example Two:
The repartee of moon and stars disguised itself as night birdsong, from the mirth of day's shadow they conjured wings. From the pleasant bonhomie of the brooks they wove the melody. Then chitter, chatter it went on, threading through all the land. It was this way at nightfall, ne’er ceasing until just ere dawn. And, in this gay subterfuge they were full-pleased. From whence this magic came, none could say, yet every heart it did bestir, every dream it did render full-bright.
(Note: In old English the word "gay" means "happy and bright", similar to the words "gaily," and "gaiety.")
The blue light fell at the end of the day, washing greens to their softest hue and raising purples to their most vivid. Even the clouds that had been white an hour before were an enchanting steel blue. With the golds of the dawn and midday banished, all that was left was for the sky to wash black and herald the return of the moon. So we sat there, Earnest and me, feeling the cooling air that ran the valley floor, resting our limbs and feeling our heads prepare for a dream-filled slumber.
Example Three:
A Night of Cruelest Cold-Bite and Fright
Each eventide gargoyle shadows warp past a metre long, then twist-erase themselves into nothingness. For it is nightfall’s noble habitude, its purview and duty to discharge, to clear the canvas of all that’s been in readiness for dawn’s empyreal mirth. So rest easy while they stretch. Fear not the pavement cracks. Ere long each vanishes as certainly as the clocks turn. Time marches and, to its beat, they have but a scant and withering retort, cloaked as it is in lies.
Example Four:
Example Five:
Bleakest night laced itself with a frigid wind, a frigid wind threading intricate wire loops. Upon it was borne an impugning moan of curdling audacity. Cry! Cry! So it went on! Such a cruel limping immorality! As a faithful servant of winter’s seal the howl sublimated its passions, for a deft hand ‘twas it in creation of pretty snow and ice; so much delight did it bring. Yet on this most cold of days, ere nightfall was in full-flow, we fled down the cobbled street. We fled fleece-wrapped and sought sanctuary with faithful kith and kin.
Example Six:
Light fell, failed, withered to a mean and muted gloam. Each hue was robbed to destitution. Each hue was drained to a poverty of grey. Each hue was scheduled for suffocation at the hand of a coal-night, at the hand of coal-cloud, at the hand of a city that would not tolerate the inconvenience of famished faces. Rage. Rage. Empathy is dead. Resuscitation breaks ribs. Pen its epitaph. Of breath, there is none. Of heartbeat, there is absence. Safer, it is safer in the dark oh hungry one, in Shadow’s blackest hug, with the knights of night.
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