The Winter Moon

Perched above the mountains high
Glowing bright in the ebony sky
An Angle of the passing gloom
The golden orb of the winter moon

Its moonbeams pierce the dark of night
And descend upon the blanket white
A fiery shimmer on the icy land
Lit by the touch of the moonbeams hand

Oh darkness darkness, of winters night
Afraid you are of the angels light
Run away you evil gloom
For its the time of the winter moon.

© 1992 James Parker Haley

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