She loved the rain that now is gone;
Now moonlight shines before the dawn.
The sound of crickets spans the night
More soft than silence in hot day's light.

Cool, the earth, but warm is love
As clouds that sail the sea above
Are tall ships, borne upon the breeze
To harbour past the tallest trees.

"The sky is a sea!" she laughs and cries,
The moon glints silver in her eyes,
Her palm a swell upon my cheek.
I hold it there; I cannot speak.

That moment lives in my weary brain.
I close my eyes to see again.
But years have sailed, and I grow old,
The evening cool is turning cold.

Where now that girl of chestnut tress
In silver moonlight's cool caress?
Perhaps she never thinks of me
And endless nights when the sky was a sea.

Perhaps the rain soaked earth's forgot.
But I have not. But I have not.
Copyright by R. P. Veraa
All rights reserved.

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