Hour of Night

For the moment passing,

fearful and somber,

waning moonshine shone.

Slowly my touch shall wander,

along your hair, to your brow bone.

Alone, afraid but joyous,

our shinshine arrives at dawn.

But the waning moon won't disappear,

until the night is gone.

Reviews

[A. Amos]

Short and sweet very cool yet chill out read

[rottinghexgrl]

I think the shortness of this poem is what makes it beautiful. You did a phenomenal job :)