Night Of The Full Moon Poem by Tom Billsborough

White night where the crystalline water
Sleeps in repose on the lake's bed
And which a full round moon has led
Its squadron of stars to watch over.

And a tall oak is reflected round
In the unrippling mirror. White night
In which the water cradles the light
Of the highest wisdom and most profound.

It is a remnant of Sky which Nature comes
To embrace in her arms. It is a tatter
Of Sky which has now come down.

And in the night's silence the prayers
Come from the lover resigned alone
To love, which is the only richness he bears.