Midnight, her dark veils fall across the land
embroidered with jewelled threads
a liquid moon returning gold from silver
shimmering, smoothly set, this white twilight flows
forever twisting, kind winds silently weaving
in my dreams, I am a night of mystery
and you are my endless velvet sky
and the silver moon that drenches me
that old scar continues to ache and that old song
still floats in upon the breeze, lingering
for the brief second of a heartbeat, the dream is distant
and there is a strangeness in the shading
as I watch it is fading, slowly, like an echo at the edges
©Ann Bagnall
Annie's Poetry 