Night Call

When the moth is on the wing and only drunks and nightjars sing. In that cloistered, muggy, midsummer night when pipistrel and owl take flight. And the moon plays hide and seek with cloud and creatures hide 'neath woodland shroud. I rise from sweated slumber deep, for I have promises yet to keep. So I steal away into the indigo night and startle corncrakes into flight. As I wander, barefoot, through dew soaked grass, to keep my vigil, no man I pass. At dark rocks edge by the foaming sea my thoughts meander, as your face I see. In moonbeams glare I heave a sigh and cry in anguish, "Why? Why? Why?"