The shy eye of heaven stirs,
Beneath nights of tender breeze;
When storms are far from ear,
And tempests fret above the knees.
There, the keen moon gloats,
For dreams are beamed higher
By breezes deep beneath;
Strands of endless selves,
Girdling night’s ghostly eye;
The moon’s lively cargo
Sentinel lighthouse of sky.
Dickie G Berg
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/now-and-then-25/
