Therese Gramercy . . . the girl named Trees

Moon Over the Bog

The Moon

The moon shone so brightly
that I turned my head,
then the moon saw my tears
and the moon too wept.

Tears glistened our cheeks
of shared pain in our hearts
then the moon said to me,
please tell me, my child.

I told the moon I have spent
all the hope I had stored
and given up my sojourn
to find true love’s door.

I had felt true love’s kiss
but it was only a dream,
and deep sadness and pain
had torn my heart at the seams.

The moon said, my child,
you must not give up this quest,
for true love is so close,
just let me do the rest.

Though I may wax and wane
I will not leave your side,
as I finish the search
for your true love, my child.

I will send him to you
with no disguise in his eyes
of a love so great
like the northern aurora sky.

Dry your eyes now, my child,
lay your head down and sleep,
with a smile in your heart,
while I take care of this deed.

Then the moon traveled on
through the snow, clouds and mist,
its eyes trained on her window
while shining brightly through his.