Moonlight sparkles on the water
As I drift lazily by, within this dream.
The languor of a summer night
Encapsulates the instant
The goddess whispers my name.
Her voice so beautiful, ethereal,
It’s like the sighing of the breeze.
© 2018 | Frank Regan, All rights reserved.
Originally published 8 May 2016
Made of sticks and stones 
Frank, this left me breathless..
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Thank you very much, glad you liked it
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Reblogged this on Made of sticks and stones and commented:
Day 16 of my review of the last twelve months and a poem about summer nights ( with no mention of Travolta or Grease)
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