Mixing In the Moonlight
Mixing in the Moonlight
Dear darling, gaze ye at the blood red moon.
Ancient light that calls with its bright red tones.
Fret not, on the breeze there will be no tune.
For the loss is great, witness how she moans.
How can we lowly sinners, give her hope?
Her pain daunting, my love, that is so true.
The poor boy hanged at the end of a rope.
With our hidden love, it may next be you.
Let us then escape ‘neath cover of dark.
For to lose you would crush my very soul.
Upon that tree, the beasts have left their mark.
Where once his heart was, there is but a hole.
They forbid two colours joining as one.
The moonlight is far safer than the sun.
My attempt at a sonnet.
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