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Sep 2018
She sees the moon
in the corner
of her window
like a ghostly galleon
(as Tennyson said
she recalls)
riding slow by
dark clouds
of the night.

She wishes Benny
was there
to see the sight.

There beside her
on her bed
her pillow to share
with his head.

His hand holding hers
beneath the covers
no rampant lovers.

His lips to kiss
her cheek
and lips and hand
never to kiss
on her never-never land.

To embrace
to be close
gazing face to face.

But he is at home
a mile away
sleeping in his own bed
or watching the moon
like her
from his window

She sighs
and closes the curtains
on the ghostly galleon
as Tennyson said
and kisses
and embraces Benny
inside her head.
Terry Collett
Written by
Terry Collett  71/M/England
     Wayne Wysocki and Sally A Bayan
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