The Midnight People


Tonight I sat in a bar, sipping colas...

People all around... lonely and sad

Trying to find lost youth... lost memories...

Drowning sorrows in endless beers and false laughter


Telling stories of what had been and what might have been


Reliving youthful hopes and ideals


Trying to find... a listener... a soul mate... someone to share the emptiness with


Looking for a fleeting moment of joy to relieve the pain


Knowing that the bell will soon ring, and they must return to their empty lives


Haven't we all been there ??


A warm humid night...the whine of mosquitos and the close, claustrophobic feeling atmosphere make sleep impossible..

A few minutes walk from my house and I'm in a different world...that no one else (apart from this crazy Englishman) would ever think of visiting. It's after 1 a.m and all good Dutchman are in bed, but there is this secret world, just waiting to be discovered...


No city lights

No city sounds

Reflections of an orange-pink harvest moon on barely rippling lakes and canals

The sky fillled with stars... constellations vaguely remembered from childhood

The muted sounds of night owls

The chorus of frogs wooing their unseen partners

A shooting star, just waiting for me to make wish on

The incessant chirruping of crickets, their striations adding their own symphony to the still night music

The fluttering wings of bats, unseen shadows, moving stealthily through the night sky

The dark silhouettes of gently swaying trees, black against the pale night sky that still shows traces of the fading day

This whole world, denied and unknown to my sleeping fellow citizens

Why can't I share it with them.... why can't I share this simple beauty, and my experience of joy

Is it that I'm still a child, and can still see the world through a child's eyes


( C ) Peter Hornegold