At the rise of the rose coloured dawn,
the flutter of wings kiss the sky...
Yet pale is this beating of the heart,
next to a silver moon.

A golden moment of sunlight heightens the face,
A blessed chorus sings a tune to thee --
Yet a simple octave is silent and weak,
next to a still silver moon.

Mist rising to the sky in winding obscurity,
becoming one with it's fair hue --
like lovers entwined in peaceful bliss,
under the Mistress Moon.

Shifting swiftly she receeds behind her veil,
Laced in a shimmering gold --
Off to grace another royal sky,
gone my silver moon.

Want to comment on this Poetry? Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Poetry and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...