The Knight is Strange

a poem by Elaine E. Howie

I wander what I see,
is this really in front of me?
Oh no, this night is strange,
it brings me to the middle of the range.
It walks with me as if it were me.
Lawdy, this night is gonna cost a fee.

I wasted a whole day making plans for this night
But, I think that this night has a plan for me.
See it sprinkles all around me it dumfounds me.
I wanna walk out of this strange night,
it is making me stumble and I can’t stand upright.
Oh, this strange so strange night.

I will not loose sight of this ever so strange night,
it makes me remember the feel for the right,
but the left I do adore, although they are a blasted bore.
This strange night I sit and ponder,
if all nights are this strange I wonder.

But, I will survive it all,
for this is the night the angel did call.
And I answered on this bed,
for my life has been feed.
And it is time to remove myself,
no more will I stay on life’s shelf.

This night is strange only because I am going now.
I will no longer be in the range of the human atmosphere.
I will not be there for your love to whisper,
for your laughter to hear, for your hands to touch,
I will not be there anymore much.

I must go to my strange knight,
for he awaits me sitting on high.
He is the night that never passes me by.
He is my savior and my friend,
And I am in his strange night now this is
THE END