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Moonlight Sonata 
 
A mockingbird sings his nocturne, 
 Silhouetted against a sky of  velvet blue, 
Welcoming on the garden path 
 The Lady Claire de Lune 
Slipping from behind tall cypress trees, 
 Her creamy arms draped in shimmering shadows, 
Stretching slowly across the garden 
 To gently bathe the trumpet vines, announcing her return, 
In a gleaming signature of glowing white 
 While moonlights drip from feathery birch leaves 
Falling into ivory puddles 
 Of clearest light,
Splashing across the darkened lawn, 
 Then sit atop the ivy, tiptoeing up the fence - 
Eyes filled with reveries of shooting stars 
 And other summer skies, 
When Midnight enters this quiet refuge, 
 Returning from the daylight 
Dressed in veils of silver blue, 
 To wait upon this iridescent lady fair, 
Who lightly steps across sweet jasmine
 Dozing in the flowerbeds, 
Walking slowly in silent solitude together 
 Across the velvet sky -
To wax and wane as lovers living in a serenade 
 While polar stars spin and sway 
To the rhythm of their evensong 
 Till Midnight and the Lady slip away 
Before the world opens drowsy eyes 
 To catch them in the garden
On another summer night.

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