Solitude

Melancholy moonbeams cascade
over a lattice of canopies
of the overhanging trees,
like millions of sparkling snakes  
slithering over the surface
of the silent water of the lake.

A sense of bodeful uneasiness
flood into my solitary soul;

When love is lost
No one and nothing could hurt more,
No one and nothing pleases ever.

In how many varied places 
do I profess my love?
In how many ways
do I proclaim my love?

A quivering blanket of mist
stealthily envelopes the grassy plain
drawing me into its rapture.