Under The Moonlight Poem by Peter S. Quinn

Under the moonlight
Where all thoughts drift away,
In the lost deep flight
Before the coming day;
Where stars are born to die
When dawn comes softly in,
And love is like a butterfly
That takes in the air a little spin.

Where you and I are very close
When evening is young and fresh,
Filling the air with a fragrance of a rose
And our worries are little or less;
Before the night comes dim in mood
And fills our heart with sorrow,
When worries again grow its attitude
In the hours before tomorrow.

Under the moonlight
In the hours that are soon gone,
When love is lost into the night
The endlessly drifting aeon;
Where the stars are shining high
In twinkling memories,
And filling the northern sky
With mirages and actualities.