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Creepy, quiet, mellow, velvet night,
The hour that my love shines bright,
As moondrops fall from above;
I'm in the arms of love.
Like leaves that whisper on the trees,
I hear love's symphonies;
On the streets of Italy, London, and Paris, France,
Lovers chance to dance.
The dark lover called Passion,
Is never out of fashion.
Never meaning to dismay,
He'll steal your heart away!
Ah, the night of sweet delight,
Holding love ever so tight;
Ah, the fire of summer smoke,
Under the ebony cloak.
How can one be a passive captive?
And when the heart's stolen, how can you live?
When of your soul you've lost control,
How do you still feel whole?
Singer, dancer and movie queen,
All have played this scene;
And speaking of the drama of love-
It's what all things are made of.
Copyright © Evelyn Judy Buehler | Year Posted 2020
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