By Robert Edward Gerlach

The moon leans down
and softly bathes you in its light-
silver one with hair undone,
waiting in the night.

As I lean down
and gently kiss away your tears-
patient girl with your life aswirl,
waiting all these years.

I wonder how it came to pass
that we should choose this door,
drifting minds, now intertwined,
waiting... nevermore.

I don't know where moonbeams go,
but knowing where they start,
I slip my hand through wonderland
to rest upon your heart.

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