Page 147 - 1970

0 dark night, night of adventures and of poets and of all that do not belong in the madhouse of your daytime with its games and endless races.
Pray tell me why are you my guardian ... for I am not a man of words nor do I seek grand adventure
yet in you I see much and
the peaceful night air speaks to me.
In you I fmd hope and companionship as I walk away the hours and listen to your footsteps by my side.
Night make me a garden path, that leads to my freedom house, there to meet with my only love may she always be there to guide me.
Bright city lights beckon me, onward
but beyond their sparkle lies the darkest
gloom of
creation.
Forget my memories I told myself, forget my dreams and future plans.
But how could I live on, you hold my life
in your hands.
- Michael Belcher
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