Took a tumbling beneath the sea
and thought I made a pathway of bubbles
with crescent moon glowful on surf
a tainted memory lays there now
pon the banks of dried sand
crescent shaped in a sigh
as wind moves tainted secrets on ancient paths over sky.
Still, knowing moon waits and catches
creeping nights sympathy of time
while holding ancient secrets in her palm,
spread evenly pon velvet night
to catch a falling secret
of ancient warriors and lovers tears,
the moon and her creeping claw
scratching patterns over sand.