Melancholy

What flame rims the growing moon
As shades ensnare cerulean noon?
There was a breath my silence heard
In the falling of the singing bird
As I watched the waters unfold
In low mist choked in gold.

And though I know what lies before me
My eyes obscure with mystery.
The realm suffocates with its space
At the befogged window where I lay my face
And as the night kisses between the hours
I watch my terror turn away the flowers
That dare with violet to ease
Me of the shadows in the breeze
And the flurries that pass by
To flood with dream within my eye.

And to midnight the tears that cannot fall
Capture the diamonds of the descending pall
That hear me whisper to the honeyed grass
A heart’s fortress whose throne alas
Was emptied long ago
By the stars that do not glow.