Written by: Bruce Schuhart

Deep was the night, layered in darkness,
When the moon hid her face behind an opaque veil.
In the breathless silence of the tranquil starkness
It seemed the night was immortal in the slumbering dale.

There came a light breeze from some distant place
With no more strength than what a whisper brings.
The maple tree murmured in its tremulous embrace
And the clouds flew away on invisible wings.

No longer hidden by that vaporous veil
The moon takes her place as the guardian of night.
Resplendent now in her gown long and pale
She illumines my room with her faint falling light.

She takes her place at the foot of my bed
And keeps a vigil while I slumber.
She soon drapes her robe across my head
And loosens the dreams the night might encumber.