Come Sleep In Cresant Moon Poem by James McLain

Mostly are, they lighter or of darker hearts?
When by a common string all hang.
Below within that branch none seek, I speak for.

Once upon a time when scented flowers petaled,
crushed in lonely books her birthday past.
A single arm one hand I held, stretched up.

Can you Judge each single man by her see through cover?
Can you Judge a woman by her naked man?
Can you withstaning sleep,
when sleep to how they are percieved both stood?

Can then you come to sleep in cresant moon.