Monday, September 26, 2011

On a Silent Dance-floor


The moon has climbed her lofty trail
above the timberline
It drapes its silver-tinted veil
across the darkened pine

The midnight wraps its sullen fist
around the hour of mirth
which slumbers now beneath the mist
Enshrouding climes of earth

The wind composes melodies
Soft, slow and sorrowful
Its lyric rouses memories
That time cannot annul

The river slides out to the skies
Its sultriness is gone
I wrap my arms around your sighs
I will not dance alone

Janet Martin

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