The night is filled with silver ribbons

Tied in bows around the shining moon

Two people seeking what they need

Gaze at the stars strung together like beads

But broke and scattered much too soon

So I found these words on

Lilac sprays and butterfly wings

And then sat and scrawled down all these

Crazy things

Before losing to your passion under the silver ribbon moon

Now the years pass in the dimming of the day

Love is waxing, longing to be free

Having to get married anyway

It turned out to be a necessity

Wait—was that applause I heard

From the mistress of the moon?

Or just the bumping of the logs

The breeze filled with silent silver birds

Two lives grew apart like a dying flower

He turns to me and says

“You robbed me of my shining hour”

I said “You took me for your vanity

Under that silver moon now so dour”

Love is an unanswered prayer grown colder

Now I write on wilted flowers

But my words have turned cold and sour

And the moon is fifteen years older

The silver ribbons hide behind the moon now

All alone—as I weave them in my hair

Yet I still want to believe

All your broken promises where we once sat

You must have had magic up your sleeve

Beneath the silver ribbons

Getting us to feel like that

©Terry D. Robertson