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by 444 Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Poetry · Contest Entry · #1674773
Entry for The Freedom Writers Monthly Writing Contest
The night-time, it is for lovers,
Yet lo! The world is a-slumbering.
Bar I, resting chin in hand;
Gaze over this peaceful vista.

Bright moon, with your jealous glow,
Devouring the light of the stars,
I pray the clouds will cover you
So that I can escape unawares

If my heart is true, beating fast,
It is due to my true love,
But he of my heart, he pains me so!
Why aren't I in his arms?

'Twould be so simple, to climb down these vines
So I shall step over the edge;
This ballustrade; my prison bars,
The demarcation betwix our hearts.

With one foot on the railing,
And the other hovering mid-air,
I hear a sound it stops my whole;
'Tis the sound of my true love's voice.

Calling my name, like the soft pelt of rain,
Your strong grip on sturdy vine,
O, that the vine were the heft of my hair
'Twould pull my lips up onto yours.
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