Blue

Send us Fan MailBlueBlue is the moonlight, silver, across the bedroom door, the shadows as clear as morning, the nights of starlight hidden, upon the broken floor, for whilst the path is clear, along the garden, over the bridge, into the meadows open and near, the trees still tremble in whispers, the last hush of this passing day, dawn might come tomorrow, if time shows her the way.For the moon is high you see, beyond the distant hills and towns, searching for her reflection, in rivers, lakes of opalescence, still in the hollows, the fog and mists of October shrouds, And so the church bells ring, the passing of a season’s light, fading by the hollow echoes of chiming hours, for it’s you, I dream of tonight, [email protected]