Moondance
On the night of the dead
Dressed to disguise
My lover, I think
Looked me in the eyes
Spellbound I gazed
into the center of his mask
Is this really him
I stopped myself to ask
He took my hand
and we wandered for a while
Weaving through the labyrinth
reaching the center aisle
We stopped and he whispered
Gently in my ear
Evocative words
that I wanted to hear
His voice was different
But I didn’t have a care
I shivered when we touched
I knew I shouldn’t dare
We walked on to a rivulet
Where he kissed me long
Wrapping his arms around me
So tightly and strong
We stood there together
Until I began to swoon
This was not my lover
I had just danced on the moon
Christine Bolton – Poetry for Healing ©
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