Moonlight streaming in my window, pooling at my side. From this liquid radiance she starts to rise.
Through pools of night, Moonlight races to my side. Seeking to find a dream sublime. Gracefully flitting through my dreams, fantasy is what she seems.
From this dream of fantasy I come awake, drenched in the sweat of passion. Whence came this vision of virtue true, from my fevered mind, after a fashion.
Now what is this sound borne upon the wind? Siren song, but then I am not dreaming. God, let it not end.
Looking at the window, I swear I saw the moonlight bend beckoning me closer to gaze out upon the midnight gray
Landscape without end.
Steeling my courage, entranced by the song, I approach the window within a cloud of mystery my curiosity pulling me along.
Upon the grass, below my window sill, my vision sways and dances, the moonlight pulls me forward against the edge and romance glides by the edge, casting upward glances.
I swear, below, my dream stands singing her song of love and pain. My need for her overcomes my caution, with abandon I throw myself upon the glass, my need I cannot contain.
Moonlight grasps me and lowers me to her, not wanting to interrupt her song, I scarcely dare to breathe, a kiss is all I need. What is her name? I cannot contain the rising pain, what is the name of my moonlit fairy?
She turns to me and says, "Mary".
Written for Mary (Moonlight)
Hopefully, more than a friend.
Patience is a virtue, but virtue has never been one of my redeeming qualities.