Song of the Midnight Sun

She stole your place
shone with your light
With grace replaced
your reign of sky
A coupe de grace
armed with the stars
Washed banner blue
with pitch and tar
Forsake the leaves
the owls greive
and frogs bereave
the morning star

A shadow leaps
across the earth
The fungal friends
soirée with mirth
In drought of glint
Of dew, a birth
of cloud, a tint
of sleeping grass
of warmth no hint
The creepers creep
the sleepers sleep
the dreamers deep
in seas of mint