The Witching Hour.

The Witching hour Before the world wakes up,
The moon has settled back in his chair.
The Reddish purple rays of dawn's light
have yet to brush the sand filled eyes of the slumbering folk
eager only to catch those last restive moments.

This is when I rule, preparing for the early rush.
The occasional car flashing past.
A couple stops in weary from the road,
Halfway to where they want to be.
Then they are gone and I remain.
The road stretching out before them,
the waking sun lighting their path
Pushing them ever onwards.

Soon, too soon it seems
It will be busy, no time to think
Time only to react, to run on instinct.
There is no worry only a cheery smile and knowing hands,
But now is my time - to stop, to reflect and to prepare.
Waiting and biding my time here
In the Witching Hour.