Midnight Hour

I miss the midnight hour,
when the sun still showered.
Glistening life,
reflected off white.
The shadows grew tall,
still,
we never felt small
basking in the darkened rays,
glistening with morning dew,
trees in bloom
as the grass grew.
I miss the time of life,
when everything seemed right.
still,
I have to wonder,
did the sun burn that bright?
with comforting shadows
all through the night.
I hope it was just as bright,
but it doesn't really matter.
Because what I remembered
will always be right,
in my midnight hour
I miss that shattering dream.