Waiting for the moon

Waiting for the moon

I’ll stand and wait for moonrise,
the rising of the light,
the silvering of meadows,
the darkening of night,
to hear the owl song echoing
among the spindle trees,
to hear the owl song echoing,
his soft voice in the breeze.

When veils of rain have fallen
into the arms of night,
I’ll stand and wait for moonrise,
the growing of the light
and listen for the owl’s song
among the darkling trees,
among the silver branches,
stirred by a silver breeze.

And will you wait here with me
while silver laps the hedge,
a tide of misty moonlight
is a sea where feathers fledge?
Our fingers joined like heartbeats,
the beating of pale wings
plays in silver fluting moonlight
such songs as the night bird sings.

Published by

Jane Dougherty

I used to do lots of things I didn't much enjoy. Now I am officially a writer. It's what I always wanted to be.

8 thoughts on “Waiting for the moon”

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