It rolls across the gleaming hills
Of midnights silent rue
I now can hear its haunting trills
Like heavy-laden dew
Across each ramparts vain defense
In effervescent sighs
And in the moonlight I can sense
It flaming in your eyes
I once had known a tortured bliss
And in this solemn lay
I recall its searing kiss
Upon my memory splay
But now I turn to hear its chords
Redeem my agony
No finer gift could kings and lords
Ever bestow to me
Than this one gift that drifts upon
The moaning midnight breeze
As it softly sifts beyond
The swaying raven trees
This song in its grandest debut
Fit for royalty
As I turned to look at you
Your eyes sang it to me
All rights Reserved
Janet Martin
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Thank-you for stopping by my porch! I hope you were blessed!