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Poem

just before the advent of another dreaded dawn
Upon the glass, fastidious fingers of a waning moon
writing me love letters before the last of night is gone

A child of night am I...a purveyor of darkness dear 
Where wonders dart in shadows, beheld, not quite seen
Light, the demon darting into every corner to expose
the evidence of ordinary monotony in life's every scene

Moonlight brings softness to smooth corners for the weary
who know bitter truths; secrets that blight the very soul 
Dear globe of pale enlightenment, erasing what eyes abhor
keeping gentle souls from reality and its wicked, naked toll

Come hover with me Mother Moon, until at last we must part
for my tender sensibilities cannot endure the coming of day
Lunar child am I, not meant for what is revealed by relentless sun
so I shall bid you adieu, till another night when we may play

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