Is this the last moon …
Til she sees her lover again …
Or will there be six more …
... ‘til he comes through that half hinged door?
What is it,
This fairy tale, that she longs for?
What she has, and clings to,
is the memory of his shadow, on her floor.
Is this the last moon …
‘til she sees her lover again …
Only love knows …
Only through Love’s Maker, the cry of her soul,
can win.
© jan leree 2012