The Moon Is Yours

Dawn has Drawn An orange Flare Upon the fringe Of her hair

Her stare Is the only sound In these silences; Its song surrounds Her like her irises Belong in green and white-- Seen in my dream By a pond of moonlight

Where summer Tendrils Become lily pale As angels fill The plentiful still Of her beautiful trail

And in the day There's comfort The hurt Fades away Unfurling Like grey Mist From which this Regal girl emerges With Dark purple lips, Pearls in her fists

And wide open Mackerel skies Reflecting off Of her soft Emerald eyes