Stretched across
moonshine sheets,
she speaks, softly
in warming voice.
A northern tone greets
the southern cold.
It seems a tale told
in fiction of old.
A tale of love
that cannot be,
parted by the stretch of time
and the ancient weeping seas.
Stretched out
in this room, tinted with dreams
that bloom so delicately.
When the moon is full,
I see you
and you are whispering
sweetly to me,
but the sounds
are always drifting silently.
I want the southern downpour
to wash away
the northern uproar
that rocks me to the core.
I want that harsh weather
to batter my heart,
kick it back to life,
give it a new start.
In my moonlit cocoon,
I look through the open window
to see if you
are anywhere to be seen,
the scene that greets me
makes my smile beam.
A northern soul serenading
the serenity of a southern fool.
A moonlight dream swaying across
my tear clad eyes. Like the tree of life.
it's limbs reaching out a magic kiss,
to give its love. To share in its bliss.
In moonlight grasp
I gasp at the clasp
you hold around my heart.
The light you impart.
I want that northern sweetness
to fill me with goodness,
take the southern chill
from my skies and instil
some heat into my heart.
Set a fire for me
and we can lay together
beside the flames that rise.
Watch the embers embark,
dancing before our eyes.
Thanks for reading
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