Mumble In The Dark

(For context see the babble at bottom of the poem...)

A purple haze fills the sky,
Fleeting moments, time is spry...
A nearby shrill, its part of game, (***)
Still I wonder, whence it came...

The flowing breeze hath a tune,
An occult one, notes all strewn...
Scattered they are, in essence one,
Fresh in state, like yarn just spun...

The mysterious night holds a charm,
Of promises obscure but feelings warm...
Obscure because of darkness around,
Warm because of silence profound...

It makes me wonder, this nightly tale,
Of one revelation, left in its trail...
A revelation, that came with a spark,
Its all a game... I mumble in the dark...

(***) The line annotated is a tribute to the owl which chose to screech just as I finished the first two lines...

If you're wondering what the context of the poem is then its nothing in particular.
Just random thoughts that crossed my mind when I was awake one night.

A Night in July

One night, in yet another day,
As I sat still, mulling in dismay...
Of reason devoid and short of hope,
Balancing myself, on a treacherous slope...

The night, of many things it spoke,
Things which, mixed feelings evoke...
For the looming darkness hath fright,
While the soothing moon radiated light...

It was a laugh that broke the trance,
Laughing life, with silence of a glance...
A laugh that held the tinkle of bells,
Like rising waves, when the ocean swells...

The sight itself purged all grief,
Removing shadows, reinforcing belief...
Aye! It was the sight that changed the night,
With darkness gone, the world seemed bright...

All this I remembered with a sigh,
'twas a night of magic, that night in July...