Last night when the moon was free
I sent a breeze as messenger ...
to brush across your lips.
Did you turn your head, alert
because it ruffled your hair
so like my fingers, light as air?
Did you close your eyes to dream
and hear the rustle of the leaves?
It was my echo, whispering
my heart, my soul, belong to you!
And, always when the moon hangs low
should you but pause and wish for me ...
you will feel my presence near
lingering in every shadow
beneath the pale moonglow of night.