Flavour of Night

From Things You Find in a Poet's Beard by A.F. Harrold

It tastes of high clouds

  of crisp cold

     of twilight

It tastes of autumn leaves

  of bonfires

     of the first star

It tastes of curtains

  of ‘Time for bed’

     of warm pillows

It tastes of snuggled up

  of stories

     of snoring

It tastes of unbelievable

  of muddled up

     of brilliance

It tastes of marzipan

  of early glow

     of morning duvet

It tastes of half-awake

  of alarm clock

     of breakfast