Memories of water

Lapping darkly against the sand

Where the sea touches the sky

In the velvet night

And a melancholy moon

Looks on from on high

Spilling her silver

Painting pictures exquisitely

The wind in the trees

Lonely

Sings like rain

I sense there is sorrow

In her soft refrain

The night

Conspiratorial

Whispers low and close

Sharing secrets

That belong only

To me

© Ann Bagnall