By Gina Elliott

                                       The sun burned in envy,

                                       when the night wed the moon,

                                        adorned in stars,

                                        with the Milky Way her bridal gown,

                                        A hush enveloped her midnight blue skies,

                                        she sighed with the swallows’ twilight flight

                                        as she reclined over the earth,

                                        the setting sun still mourned lost love.

                                        Her darkness is not to be feared,

                                        but is a comforter,

                                        The music of her silence

                                        lulls the lonely and the grieving to sleep,

                                        as the cat’s eyes glow in the moonlight as he creeps,

                                        Nightfall singers blend with the angels’ rhapsodic trumpets.

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