Memories of water
Lapping darkly against the sand
Where the sea touches the sky
In the velvet night
And a melancholy moon
Looks on from on high
Spilling her silver
Painting pictures exquisitely
The wind in the trees
Lonely
Sings like rain
I sense there is sorrow
In her soft refrain
The night
Conspiratorial
Whispers low and close
Sharing secrets
That belong only
To me
© Ann Bagnall
