when the ghost of the dark cried for sunset
and the darkness arrived like a storm
the cliffs all angular and windswept
to wait long for the blossoms of dawn,

the dark all a seascape of blackness
a dance that soon opened every door
the clouds darkest grey, hardly
senseless,
the waves that blue anchored
the shore.

our love was a drifting of sorrow
like a tide only longing to flow
baptised while it waits for the morrow,
the moon’s tender orb all aglow,

when i kiss you beneath the
bright starlight
each star throws a fisherman’s
net,
and your flesh tastes like silvery
moonlight,
like the first night we met.

the late clouds gather their silver
the wind blows like the song of a ghost,
and my heart pounds like a
burgeoning river,
and all time in its fever is lost.

the storm’s edge blows open the
window,
the shutters pushed out from the sill
the clouds are a story of sorrow,
the evening all chill,

the night hangs her clothes in
her wardrobe
the sun sleeps like a cloudy
old bear
and all of my love like a snow
globe
white petaled, moon-scented and fair.

i dream of you like a silvery ocean
whose tide ever beats ever back
your love all a hypnotic potion
painted silver and black.

you told me your love was enchantment,
that the sky would e’r carry my tear,
like a breeze that the southerly wind sent,
that the dusk sent its shadows to cheer,

and the dusk of the dusk was bleak sunset
the moon set to drift from on high,
while spanish eyes laughed and cast out their sea net
to capture the sky.

your love was the shadows of evening
my love all the solitary isles
that dreamt like a lode star soft-beaming,
of your leg or your sparkling eye,

oh, love was your kiss, how i fluttered
like a bird that dreamt e’er of the sky,
or a window now no longer shuttered,
opened only to sigh.

you called me your ghost of the evening
i called you my sweet boy of dream
the moon’s golden note always dreaming,
a dream of a dream of a dream

my love once won all beseeching
your eye as pretty as the sea,
my hypnotic glance always seeking
your love, fervently.

the shadow lark spoke of the night clover,
the morning lark spoke of the sun
my heart yearned for yours like a lover,
hypnotised until its wildness was won,

my love was always forever
no night sky as dark as your eye,
the grey sky, or song of the heather,
my love or my sigh.