The Moon
Sometimes I dress you with silver
And claim that you are the moon.
After awhile I turn off the lights
To dream inside this dark room.
A chilling wind makes me shiver,
I will steal love from your mouth.
Like in a thousand and one nights
We will travel to the warm south.
Let’s divide our war’s plunder
On the top of the tallest tower,
Surrounded by mingled gardens
Underneath a stardust shower.
“Where is the moon’, they wonder,
Better to ask “Where the night went?”
Both are my guest, I am the warden
Of the stars and the moon crescent.
Copyright © João Camilo | Year Posted 2013
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