The night is empty
Save for the swoon
Of shadow and silver
Beneath the full moon
I should be dreaming
Tucked warm in my bed
But I choose the high noon
Of midnight instead
Fantasy swirls
Like the steam from my cup
Women become girls
When the moon is up
Infinitely gentle
The hands of the night
And I’ll be a woman
Come morning light
© Janet Martin
Ah ! Ha ! Truly poetic - “ Women become girls when the moon is up “” & I’ll be a woman come morning light “ - what poetic traipses of thoughts !
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