Her Gaze Of Night

03 Apr

Beyond the crest of the moon,
‘ere the haze of reflected sun
loses its cohesion in the dark;
just outside its distant sheen,
neither warm, nor let to flame,
‘ere waiting dawn lies still;
I search in vain for an answer,
waiting not long, but sorrowed,
it seems to me to be her gaze;
like any other distant light,
unaware of my wanton remorse,
it beckons, not to me, but air,
that it may sleep ‘mid the sky;
as it waits, her gaze abides,
a stare she left in the window,
which, in memory, still shines;
or is it the haze of the moon,
soft o’er wool packed clouds,
seen thru’ her eyes with mine?

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Posted by on April 3, 2017 in My Poetry


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