General

The midnight sky becomes a sweet embrace of starry black, a fresh chance to dream anew.

General

With hands toward the heavens, midnight arrives.

General

In the middle of a midnight song,
Came the parakeet,
A bird of flame,
A bird of deep indigo's keep,
And into that blessed night,
Of it's own song it gave,
Not born of fright,
Nor for mirth or sonnet's might,
Yet for rekindling of heaven's fire.

General

Midnight comes as perfect black, the true companion of every good night.

General

Midnight blue deepens over a broad and starlit sky.

General

Every end is a beginning and midnight is just the same.