Donn Kean
A pagan moon upon the rise,
And winter neatly hiding;
A witch's dance with Mother Night
And all the spells that bind me.
And where are you, my lady fair?
How you loved these pagan nights;
Too well recalled your soft, dark hair
And the fire behind your eyes.
You pierced the world with entrance,
And with your passing, cut it deep,
And then without ever asking,
You passed away from me.
Once we danced upon an Autumn's eve,
When the moon was blue and full;
So gentle, you upon the leaves,
And so soft upon my soul.
But now the dance is solitude,
Sadly sweet and too poetic,
And like the moon, I'm slightly blue
And ever lost in memory.
You'd like the moon tonight, m'love,
Her negligee of fading mist,
The stars afloat upon the sky above,
Like a gentle, stolen kiss.
I feel you near, so very close,
For my body nearly tingles;
Making love with memory's ghost
And causing me to tremble.
Your touch upon my naked face,
Your lips so soft upon my own,
Then vanished soon, without a trace,
Until, again, I am alone.
Thank you, love, for this last goodbye,
Until at last we meet once more;
Forgive me now if I gently cry
And close sweet memory's door.
A pagan moon upon the rise,
And winter neatly hiding;
A witch's dance with Mother Night
And the spells so gently binding.
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