The perpetual kiss of the night,
embarrassed by its foggy
hug, its mystery is here to
entrance our needs for
beauty and the monsters
lurking beneath its misty banks.

Such things crawl around in the
underbelly of bleakness of pitch
black of the night. Waiting for
our eyes to close, to drift off to sleep.

The moon hangs low
in its bow, orbiting the mystery
we call night. Such love it has
for the sky in which it calls home.

Alone moon beam lost
within the mysterious night.

© 2019 By Amanda D Shelton