Shine in the Moonshine
Shine, Oh! Street, in the rain of white light.
Oh! Highway man, shine in the luminescent light.
Thieves enlightened, sinuous thoughts swayed away,
by the wave of joy thou sway.
Bess! Rise! End this slumber.
Noyes to imprint a new story of the grave yard.
The Highway man wandering on his stallion,
this time, not a ghostly meet but a real union.
The soldiers fast asleep,
the highway man in his historic quest.
This time, no gunfire,
and never that sorrowful alarm.
Bess! Wake up! There is a halo of hope,
for the lovely union of hearts, there is scope.
The frog croaking,
the mantis in its usual praying posture,
all praying for this legendary ever awaited union,
swinging with you to begin days in halcyon.
The soldiers sleeping in their graves.
No General this time, to make them awake.
The cricket and the frog engaged in their request.
Soft sweet words whispered into his ears,
and then a historic embrace.
Latent became the whispered words,
in the natural cry of request,
to deafen the envious ears,
in the union a hindrance.
Only Bess and the highway man in the moon shine,
a torrent swaying the dust into every envious eyes.
Together, riding the historic stallion,
merge themselves in your shine.
A new liberation, a new inspiration,
in the dream of mine.