It Follows
My eyes roam skyward sailing East and, though each moment seems a moon, when senses, on such beauty, feast the night will pass away too soon. My soul is drawn, when sailing west, to more than one can safe absorb. I am, by heaven's grace, possessed, enraptured by an ancient orb. It follows that a moonlit sky will call your image to my mind. No matter where my roving eye, no matter where you are, I find a glow that distance can't eclipse, I feel your love, if not your lips. ~ Dean Neighbors ~ |
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