On Halloween, Beneath a Crescent Moon
On Halloween, beneath a crescent moon,
a dark-haired man, pale-faced, I chanced to see.
He danced with grace and beauty to each tune
the band was playing. Would he dance with me?
At last he asked me, “May I dance with you?”
On Halloween, beneath a crescent moon,
his breath was on my cheek. My passion grew.
Within his arms, I thought that I would swoon.
How beautiful he was! But all too soon
he left me, saying he would wait for me
on Halloween beneath a crescent moon,
beyond some trees in shadows he pointed to.
His first name, all I knew of him, was Sloan.
But past the trees I heard his sweet voice croon.
It led me where his name shone on a gravestone
on Halloween, beneath a crescent moon.
Written Oct. 18, 2016 for the May I Dance With You contest of Galeo DS
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