The College Years
Dwelling in His Shadow
All Hallows’ Eve, and, as children, softly
Sleep we beneath its hollowed, full-spun light,
Pale golden globe of luminosity
That melts the savage spirit of strange night
And, through rough rustling branches, slants its smile
On babes in bewitched woods who slumber
Below swaying shades—where flitting evil,
Perchance, glides: thin phantoms’ restless number.
Still wary of moon’s watchful lamp, they steal
Past us into black blanket night, banished
By full-caring Father who fondly seals
Our rest with starlight’s kiss, dark dreams vanished
From tired eyes. Stroke of His winged shadow
Dims trees’ flame torch and whispers nocturne low.
11/01/1982 — Lookout Mountain, GeorgiaAll text on this page was written by Sandra Fleming and is copyrighted by the author. Please do not reproduce the poem or the photographs without her permission.
