"sonnet9"

in still of night, the shadows fall
the moon her rise, the dark her call
the silent corridor she hears
celestial music to her ears
the light is shed for skin of black
as shadows call her to her pack
the mind her music, song her dance
the whispering night does entrance
new moon, the jewel pinned to her breast
beneath a note that does request
the air does howl, the moon does blink
her path to guide, the night to drink
now found to her, dark light in one
a mark to prove, `tis to be done

`t. imaan tretchicovmanicova
19may05