Blue Moon Lullaby

The blue wind moans in languid tones
Across the sleeping hills
Where once we danced and laughter glanced
Upon the wooded rills
The drooping flower which graced the hour
Before the lowering sky
Has shed its tear as we both hear
A blue moon lullaby

The feathered leaves of willow trees
Lay strewn like golden snow
And from the sky a distant sigh…
My dreams of long ago
The mournful song of old and young
Blend in the lone birds cry
For none can pass on yester’s grass
In a blue moon lullaby

The blue wind moans in languid tones
Its sonnet fills the air
It stirs the dust where soon I must
Relinquish every care
What is man, this briefest span
Of life before I die?
A bud that grows to a withered rose
In a blue moon lullaby

And thus the years like petal-tears
Lay scattered at my feet
Whilst distant gleams of faded dreams
Waft o’er my lone retreat
But then I hear a Voice so near
Breathe from the purple sky
I know tis He who speaks to me
In a blue moon lullaby

All Rights Reserved
Janet Martin

We had a ‘blue moon’ new Year’s Eve