Member Poem

We met secretly on the stroke of twelve.
A mystic moon glints our walkway but we barely saw each other yet.
It was the aura of the night that rouses wonderful enchantment in those oceanic eyes that act as magnet.
Iridescent cycle of love with scene-shifting magic and intrigue at its core.
Do cloud rim charcoal skies elate us torch flames?
Will golden galaxies exhale
as ardent sweethearts stroll on dim-lit streets?
eerie sounds from cars a burglar's nuisance to romantics but it’s swallowed by this dark midnight vortex 
windows squeak and shut in strange alignment  laughter shatters solemn nocturne veils
still young orb sighs breathe fire into the velvet glitter wee small hours canvass.

NB
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