At the stroke of midnight we must meet,
To sneak past our guards, hoping boards don’t creak.
You the most elegant of queens,
And I the simplest of your dreams.
Into the dark night we must run,
Together always having fun.
At the edge of the forest I catch a glimpse of your hair.
I cannot help but stop and stare.
You’re the most beautiful of all,
And yet I can’t recall, that day we first met,
Many, many years ago.
Every year we keep this ritual,
Never frightened by all the rules.
Never scared to see what every one else huddles away inside from.
We stand in the dark, holding hands.
“It’s been a while” you whisper.
“Yes it has” I simply reply.
The blackened spot high in the sky begins to glow.
A silvery halo beginning to show.
It takes a while, for our planet to pass.
Showing a glimpse of our darkened past.
A history no one likes to talk about.
Unless of course they scream and shout.
Our moon was hidden long ago,
By a powerful source that no one knows.
It comes out to play, once every year.
But doesn’t stay for very long, and I shed a tear.
My love for you both has passed,
Yet it will keep on going, and will last and last.
Least until the next time the moon comes out from hiding,
And standing there holding hands, I will forever be smiling.