Behold the celestial orb that casts his ghostly light
he cascades his silver tendrils and illuminates the night.
Over every mountain top and across the barren land
he spreads his glorious mantle over each grain of sand.
Slowly he pans his heavenly beam across each open field
although the clouds obscure him, the specter will not yield.
Not too long through his journey he finds her resting place.
It is here he tends to linger and observes her sleeping face.
Then off like the wind or a child, he joyfully runs away
He is more radiant, more powerful for that worthwhile stay.
As he travels he dwells on what all other things now lack
and carefully, almost regretfully he makes his way back.
Back to where she lies sleeping, that face and auburn hair
the fair body, heart, and soul he hoped one day to ensnare.
He lingers dutifully absorbed by the sweetness of her repose
and as he leaveshe stretches down to kiss the tip of her nose.
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