Hanging out washing in the unveiled moonlight,
Communing with spirits beneath a full moon.

Too young my sister’s husband is taken,
For now, she’s been left adrift, forsaken.
His heart did not last past fifty short years,
Now round his vacant bed are only tears.

Talking to myself in the bright full moonlight,
Two AM quietness beneath a full moon.

Now, fine words of him I’ve been tasked to write,
Of one whose life’s toil I’ve no insight.
His greatest burden was that one must die,
That he may live, for him the question why?

Singing laments in the radiant moonlight,
There are tales to bemoan ‘neath eclipse’d moon.

Why, only when one is dead do we praise,
While alive good words unsaid, so unwise?
Good and bad traits together always make,
Man or woman, for their true soul to awake.

Juggling with pegs in the vivid full moonlight,
This will never be again beneath the moon.

The choices made, for either good or bad,
Make up the life we only think we’ve had.
We strive to do what is deemed morally right,
Too soon we all lay forever in the pale moonlight.

In slumber cocooned from the intense moonlight,
Solemn dreaming forever eclipsed by shadow.