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J Byron Maxson
Poems
Apr 2010
Under A Celtic Moon Night
Under a Celtic Moon Night
Warm breeze blowing in the spring
Two great armies cease their fight
In grassy fields, insects sing.
I walked alone with my thoughts
Looked for peace and solitude
Dreaming of love that was not;
So I calmed my warriors mood.
A sound: Enchanted music
Drifted soft, calling my soul
Older than any Gaelic,
Those words took such a heavy toll.
From the wood something appeared
Like a ghost from ages past
Though tried in battle, I feared
My weapons from me I cast.
A girl clad in moon's soft glow
With grace, like Beren's fair bride
Beauty only elves could know
Tears, like pure silver she cried.
Like two stars her eyes did shine
Hair, as black as the night sky,
I could only wish her mine.
Deep sadness was in her sigh.
She stood pleading with heaven
To rejoin her with her love;
A soldier he once had been,
Met his fate, was now above.
This perfect scene did I watch,
When like a dream was she gone.
Left, just stillness with no match
And that night went ever on.
Now oft' when the night is long
And darkest before light,
Still can I hear her sad song
Under a Celtic Moon Night.
© JBM Aug. 1998
Written by
J Byron Maxson
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