It’s midnight,
the sun awoke for
million hours in the day;
the Shepherd gathers sheep
for prepared pastures, while the
beggars manage home
with hope….
The close of the sun
leaves tiny trace for
the way home, until the
midnight-tick of the clock….

From ‘FLY’: new poetry anthology.




How souls go home through
horizon’s door, earthquakes the ears.
The doors of the soul are opened, and
dust stay to remind those souls we loved.

How souls return home make silent
the world, like the cockerel with no
alarms for the morning.
The bereft cleanses the ashes on the heart,
with the whisper: never to touch that gone
soul again!

We watch the boulevard of silence,
as the gone souls are returned before
the faces of the mind, and on the heart
buried they first, before the earth
take her own!

How souls go home, with that
flash that cuts more, makes the heart
trek to heaven with questions so million…
But despite how death sleeps those souls eternal,
we keep their lives waking every morning
on the love that never buries; death is eaten
when we fly….

From ‘FLY’: new poetry anthology.



Night moon flood
night with light, and
like soccer-ball perfect
with silver soundness, as
it peeps through over-grown
hairs of bushy trees….

From “FLY”: new poetry anthology.

8 thoughts on “Midnight.” by Dike Dyke Williams (@dwilliams)

  1. Your collections are carefully studded with metaphorical analogies. For that I simply respect your lordship.I hope to read your anthology some day.Thank you for sharing.

    1. Thanks so much brother. I will announce it on NS by God’s grace, when it’s out.

  2. I know you from voicesnet. Great works.

    1. Thanks Weth. I am grateful.

  3. Very good poems.
    Well done.

    1. Thanks Kaycee…. I am grateful bro.

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