Under the Moon

under the moon shadows don't dampen, they brighten,

her color of ghost could not frighten

and under the stars her eyes will glisten

and glisten, and I find a new way to listen

under the moon she calls me pretty, and surely

she finds me in spite of the city

under the stars her lips desire a scarlet

the red of which rivals a fire

under the moon she looks so holy, a figure

divine and at peace with the foley

and under the stars she sings me roses, and black ones

the wind creates dancing and motion

under the moon I get so achy,

her kiss draws my soul out and makes me all shaky

and under the stars I write her sonnets, an angel,

she's falling and dancing with bonnets

...

under the moon I see the beauty of background

and how it holds more than what's pretty

and under the stars she seems so fitting, her glancing

and catching me staring and staring