Midnight on the hour

by Demorgorgon

Rating: teen
Tags: Slice of Life, Romance
Length: 371

Midnight is the time to play. For which there is no day.

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2014-02-19 17:43:19 UTC

Moonlit field

In a field of golden daffodils I lie;

Beside a lake and beneath the trees.

While my heart can only trudge on and sigh,

The field remains in its state of beauty and ease.

I look up to my smiling crescent moon,

And her smile, for me, dips low

To mend my crescentfallen heart.

And with my crescent shaped tunes,

Of adoration and gusto,

I will lasso my moon- so that from me she will never part.

As she glanced into the moonlight

Dressed in black lace

He settled behind her

With a tender embrace

Starring into the midnight sky

As the stars fluttered

Illuminating the heavens

Creating a romantic scene, like no other

The night flourished

Into a stimulating atmosphere

And she was lost in admiration

Nearly in tears

‘An immutable desire to see into your night blue-flower scented dawn

blooms from my insides -it waters the desire to be within fixed proximity to you.’

And with skin touching- the aroma of a deity has on me come upon.

And her glow - mooding our seeding, wishes aridity adieu.

An inexperienced arousing then buds;

which flowers into moments of efflorescent passion-

where Soft rouge lips rest, osculate against the skin,

Lips so warm-balmy evoke my heart’s thuds,

and your petal-light hands keep on passing-

Until to your touch,sensual and delicate, I submit; “my love, permeate in!”

Though the night was made for loving

And the day returns too soon

Yet we'll go no more a-roving

By the light of the moon .

Slowly, silently, now the moon

Walks the night in her silver shoon;

This way, and that, she peers, and sees

Silver fruit upon silver trees;

One by one the casements catch

Her beams beneath the silvery thatch;

Couched in his kennel, like a log,

With paws of silver sleeps the dog;

From their shadowy coat the white breasts peep

Of doves in a silver-feathered sleep;

A harvest mouse goes scampering by,

With silver claws, and silver eye;

And move-less fish in the water gleam,

By silver reeds in a silver stream.

Cheering at moon rise

and changing out

of this confining disguise.

Dancing in the starlight

howling at the moon.

The joy of full-moon night.