Luna’s glow kisses gravestones,
In a field of eternal repose;
A lowered soul bemoans
In sibilant, unending prose.
The night fashioned in fantasy,
And the wind rends a mournful tune;
Bitter suites of ecstasy
On an impious night in June.
R. A. Tyndall
May 5, 2020
May 5, 2020 at 12:20 PM UTC
Luna’s glow kisses gravestones,
In a field of eternal repose;
A lowered soul bemoans
In sibilant, unending prose.
The night fashioned in fantasy,
And the wind rends a mournful tune;
Bitter suites of ecstasy
On an impious night in June.
R. A. Tyndall