The Moon's Song

The wind rolls over the willowing bed,
Of flowers that dance beneath the moon,
Yellow, blue, green, and red,
Each and everyone in tune.

Soft chirps echo along,
Feather-light notes of song,
Birds sing to the moon tonight,
A melody of love gone wrong.

A sorrowful tune,
That makes one swoon,
And fall into the depths of night.

A million things,
Said and done,
But in the end,
No one won.

The moon listens this night,
For with all its might,
The song sings true,
As the darkest of lights.