Nocturne’s Spell


Daytimers don’t know

how the night

becomes a magical place

how the meadow shines

in its secret way

when the moon traces

her fingers on the snow

They’ve never stood

grinning up in delight

at scattered stars

gazing back from deepest skies,

nor watched the



a faery place

with silver leaves

and lucent boughs

and creatures stirring

in the shadows

They don’t long for

Luna’s sweet caress, nor

for Selene’s gentle breeze,

never fall yielding to

the allure of the gloaming’s

whispered mysteries

They don’t feel

the cool hand of eve

touch their cheeks

nor hear the songs of galaxies

drifting down in chimes

of star beams and moon shine

and Aurora’s dancing


Daytimers don’t know

how the night

becomes a wondrous place

They don’t know

the adoration of

the beauty

of the night

-KJ Roe




She plays her game
of hide and seek
Letting you glimpse
her warmth, her heat
Her smile draws you

closer with wanting
Her laughter wraps
around your heart
and tugs

Her eyes – her eyes!
Now sparkling, now shuttered
now looking up at you
through lowered lashes
You’d think it all
coquetry and teasing
But you’ve seen her

sincere, shy, whispering
Seen her exploding
in ecstasies of beauty
Heard her hopes and dreams
spoken bravely into the night
Felt the velvet of her skin
and the trembling in the breeze
You’ve drowned in

desire for her
Stifled frustration and
swallowed disappointment
As she pulls
back again
Uncertain if this is

yet her time
Wary of another
destructive storm
Murmured confidences

wishes for
sunshine and new life
For growth and change and

valiant renewal
As you wait in swirls of
impatience and wisdom
In cautious assurance
knowing that, always,

Spring follows in
the wake
of Winter’s snow

-KJ Roe



It’s snowing. It’s raining. It’s dark out.

And so peacefully beautiful.

I have been sitting in the night-covered fresh snow for about half an hour, mixed rain and frozen flakes pattering on my coat and my hat and my hair. The sky is glowing a soft gray-pink as light reflects back and forth between dripping clouds and sparkling white land. Every so often, a slight whoosh! and muted plop! signal a bit of snow losing its grip on a tree branch and falling to the ground below.

I am so blessed.

A little ways away, the glow from the windows of my little house promise warmth and dry shelter when it gets too cold and wet to sit out here. The sturdy logs hold safe my loved ones and the memories of our days together. The frame supports a latticework of laughter and teasing and music and even occasional tears. Love overflows here.

I am so blessed.

The landscape rolls softly around me, covered in its winter quilt. Trees stand along the perimeter, branches lifted to the sky, their fluffy white bracelets and gowns a temporary raiment for an extended ball. The quiet sings a hymn of peace and hope. It sings praise and thanksgiving. It sings, and I lift my face and whisper in echo:

Thank you, God, Creator, Absolute Love. Thank you, for
We are so blessed.

-KJ Roe