The Full Moon
The young lass sat in solitude, Upon a rock, in the thick woods, Waiting, waiting for the lily o’ the night To make her appearance ‘midst the stars. Waiting, waiting for the full moon. And she came in all her glory, And the clouds parted as in awe. The maiden saw, and she laughed, And raised the flute to her lips. And as the first haunting note poured forth, They came. Their eyes gleaming out of the darkness Their paws making not a sound. Wolves. Rejoicing at the sight of the full moon. The melody flooded the clearing, As did the moonlight. Silver fur, sparkling jaws. And then, a howl. It rent the night. The melody, shattered, Into a thousand silver shards. And then, silence. As one, they leapt and bounded Into the sheer darkness. Bid their adieus to the lily of the night And slipped back into the shadows. But those who left were one more Th