The Midnight Caller Poem by Lora Colon

From the cold marble tower of loneliness
I gaze at the moon, my loyal sentry;
Then dreams of love tap at the window pane,
And too willingly I grant them entry

Why does the moon frown in disappointment
And let passing clouds take him from my sight?
Does he not know my pain of solitude
Is far too great to bear alone this night?

As bells labor to announce the twelfth hour,
Loneliness comes scattering its damned seed,
Yet, the blessed harvest of fantasies
That follow, bring comfort, sating my need

A touch, a kiss, his heart pressed against mine,
Once more, loving arms become my prison;
My darkened realm glows with the light of love
Until the morning's first rays have risen

But how could the moon ever understand
The pain and longings of the human heart?
If he could but dwell in this anguished frame,
Would he, too, not dream, holding dear this art?

So I lay here each night with heart forlorn
Trying to explain to the moon my plight,
Waiting for fantasies to take my hand
As together we fly into the night

Come back, old Moon, and keep me company,
Be my light as the shadows come and go,
Watch me weave this sadness into a dream
While the rivers of sweet illusions flow!