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Do you remember our midnight tryst,
Under the eaves of the old tree?
And the moonlight shining on the boughs,
Of that winter holly-tree.
Shining, shining like a star,
Upon the wasted leaves?

Through all the years it always seems,
As I look back, a far-off dream.
I look to you, your solemn face,
Bathed in moonlight, godly grace.
A world of stories to be told,
Your gentle kiss, soft yet bold.
Do you remember that night under the blood-red holly tree?

Do you remember our midnight tryst,
Under the old tree?
The moonlight beaming,
Snuffles, my tears,
Your strong hands touching my face,
Dark leaves teeming, shadows weaving
Shapes upon the darkened space?

I’d promised you that night,
Sworn forever by pale moonlight,
To see you sometime soon.
"But alas, my dear!" The fates did cry,
their sadness lit by moon.
I heard of your death two days hence,
And longed for your presence ever since.

gonk So much for messing with the rhyme scheme.

Arr, matey!

Aw, tankies. Everything I write, poetry-wise, anyways, rhymes. And it drives me NUTS. So I wanted to mess with the rhyme scheme.

Bwhaha! Another one! whee pirate

Tankies for the critique! Feel free to roast me, if you will. I desperately need the experience! The rest isn't done yet, it's got four more verses and a hook, but they're still in the Jurassis-era-of-awkward-wording.

I finished! whee Feel free to roast me now.