Only on some nights the moon shines ever so full

 

When he holds his hand promising never to become the fool

 

Holding his heart, unwinding the red thread from the spool

 

That stitches the word which on pressed shirts seems so cool

 

Never on this night should he leave, its the number one rule

 

No words were spoken, no hearts broken but his eyes became his tool

 

Beautiful emotions unearthed only to awaken the laughing bull

 

The moon casted white upon a pond ever so colorful

 

Only to reveal the silhouettes of indifference beyond the cultural

 

Some things have to be locked away like those sweaters made of cotton wool

 

Others dispersed in blue waters like children in preschool

 

Nature’s eyes discover those treasures full of precious  jewels

 

Of the young night fulfilling dreams, clearer than a crystal marble

 

That allows beauty to manifest under the white light of love so powerful

 

Only on some nights the moon shines ever so full

 

When he holds his hands life becomes promising and possible...