I used to write a lot of poetry.  It was one of the original demons that stole my sleep.  Now it has epic battles with the monster that is helping fuel this blog.  Although both are headstrong and very willing competitors, the poetry demon won today.    This was the result of the battle.

Under a Blue Moon

I fit my frail hand into his as we gazed upon the moon,

the beauty of its reflection, comforting like a warm wind in June.

As the pale blue light enveloped us, we stood as one, unmoving,

engaging in a silent vow of love that would never need proving.

The stars returned our glances, embracing a life of their own,

smiling upon us as a distant loon lent music of eloquent tone.

A blend of harmonious voices, echoed the cry of the loon,

as we stood fixed, ever enchanted, by the intensity of the moon.

The night air swirled around us, laughing as it tickled the leaves.

The song of the frogs was found in the night and carried upon the breeze.

The rippling of the playful waves as their longing to touch the shore,

gave voices to the rhythm of sounds, sharing a tranquil rapport.

The magical songs in the blue moon light quieted ever so slightly,

as the glow of the moon and the array of stars ceased to shine so brightly.

His grip on my hand remained tender and sweet as he turned to look in my eyes.

A night of feelings shared by lovers under a blue moon and starry skies.