The Longest Night

In recent times as a family a decision was made to spend a day with our elderly Father who recently turned 89 years. Also one needing medical care and as a man who now cannot administer his own medications. We take this as apart of duties both caring for him and spoending time with him. But in more recent weeks we stepped it up and decided to stay over at his place a night each (with enough siblings for each day of the week). But some being abroad means one will do double duty.. That having being taken care of This past wek I stayed a night over at my fathers place, This was a difficult decision for us all, because few have stayed over since our mother passed a number of years ago.

About The Poem:

That night I sat in a room I grew up in and listened to the sounds and noises of the night, This time such sounds and noises were so much different. All that was heard was silence, the noises from houses on the neighbourhood was silence. Most now are elderly as children moved away over the years.

This night brought a lot of emotions and thoughts and todays Poem. Simply put all explained above is this poem, and indeed within the liens of this poem are memories , sounds and what was from the child of a Younger self as a child compared to those of my old self. I hope this poem comes accross as I intended it.

Things that worried a young child,now seems ppointless and thoughts of a child were forgotten by time itself. This is the Poem in itself.. Thoughts, memories of a child looked back on by an adult self over 40 years later.

Having said all of this; Please enjoy This Poem:

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(( The above Photograph was taken from an outside source and posted here with thanks And Copyrite remains with those who carried out such great work))

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The Longest Night



Where childhood eyes once peered at night,
Daylight disappeared to take flight.
His thoughts and dreams lived once more are,
Forgotten with time, now unaware.


Shadows of the night danced for joy,
 deployed there almost a decoy.
Eyes peeked there viewing shapes given,
Childhood views time had forgiven.


Eyes that dreamed with delight are wind blown,
Swept over fast by times own throne.
Blown away by the night, ne’er seen,
Innocence forgot this old scene.


Sound once travelled, now stood silent,
Harmless tones often felt violent.
Memories dormant came alive,
Yet now travelled, through this hive. 



As dawn had crept, in with a chill,
Left him losing sleep with some skill.
Flickering thoughts remain ne’er cold,
For glittering visions,  ne’er gold. 


  

© Pat Fitzgerald 2025

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ENDING THOUGHTS:

Thank you for following me on my little journey, that is composing or writing poetry. If Life is a journey which we all walk on and my journey in creating Poetry is a journey of it’s own. Which I still learn much on as I write.

At times I experiment on methods or way how I can improve my poetry, therefore getting feedback is always most welcome for such as these.

When I write poetry, some readers may be offended with something within the poetry. I do not write to offend, But such are written for reasons I outline in the posts. Often I miss typos and mistakes when publishing each poem. BUT I correct the moment I discover such mistakes.

But Poetry is a form of art work that I enjoy and thus using it in a manner to touch or inspire the reader.

Thank you for joining me on this journey.

Poetry is a learning curve where I always work to improve. A lot of work goes into editing and reediting and then repeating that process on a number of occasions until I am happy with the result. This is how I operate in creating posts to share here.

Please forgive for any such mistakes and for your understanding this.

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