" There is mystery in the night air "
**- said the Moon
while little stars upon me
began to stare
at the black kitten
catching leaves
scattered in the Old Autumn Wind...

Running fast in the middle of the corn,
the little maid held a red maple leaf
as she began to sing:
,, For golden Autumn I do not morn,
but for the blackberries that perished of grief,,

Her hair of marigold in the wind swung
and her cheeks were bright and rosy
when she once again in her silvery voice sung :
,, Oh October, month of gold,
how beautiful sights you give me to see ,,

Alas, the sun soon started to set behind the hill
and made her smile to slowly fade
when, from the woodland, the wind gave her a chill:
,, Little maid, leave October's canvas of art
and go home before nightfall freezes your fragile little heart  ,,

... So I bravely
gazed into the night sky
and my big eyes were suddenly
filled with the past,
while shedding tears
of dead memories ...*

          ✴☽✴☾✴

I met my love
down the cherry lane,
Oh, down the old cherry lane
while stars were shining above

I kissed my darling
down the cherry lane,
Oh, down the old cherry lane
while the branches bend and swing

I farewelled my lover
down the cherry lane,
Oh, down the old cherry lane
while the moon made the night brighter

Sapphire waves remember the story
when the sky was painted in royal blue
and made your gaze more of a dream than a memory
while the moon reflected into you

Suddenly you looked at me
and tears fell from your violet eyes
for your heart was not filled with glee,
yet I noticed what your white tears could symbolize

So, into the deep see I dived,
sinking and swimming
while for your happiness I strived,
in the dark water, tumbling and falling

After I found my answer
and you reached with your fingers
inside my picked up silver oyster
I saw you smile as you gathered a handful of pearls !

Dance swiftly, my briar rose,
for in autumns lament you shall not seek repose

Cry bitterly,  my willow tree,
for the silver haired maid is long lost at sea

Sing serenely, my morning stars,
for the poetic moon is no longer ours

*... Hear my whispers in the dark ...