At a midnight stroke

Choices are interesting as I am coming to find out.
Seeing is not always believing. Hearing and
absorbing make all that is imaginary, real.

Such a grand entrance that has been given. Yes I am
not the only one that reads, that spends long
nights awake.

Tender are the thoughts of friends and family that,
are too, awake hearing my thoughts through their
minds.

Yes times where I want to reach out and ask. Still
silence is best. A huge grin sits on my face.
Crinkling the corners of slate blue and waving to
rich cinnamon curls.

So one question: metal or exploring? Not sure
but I think Jehovah answered long ago. I keep
hoping I know but best to leave all that is there
alone. Jehovah will allow me to see, understand
when all is right.

So endure with me as the night gets darker and I
play on more solo waves. Hearing. Seeing. Maybe,
perhaps. Ah words of perhaps.

Anyhow. Yes midnight sky soon to be pressed
against a warm cheek, dampened auburn and
cold slate. So entertaining that idea is. Looking
forward to see if any thought comes to mind when
wrapped in pink waffle.

Hmm will have to see, indeed.

Does one foot exit? Does whole soul do a shimmy
in coldness? Shall see at a midnight stroke!