Moonlight Tryst

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Moonlight Tryst

The churchyard dark as midnight tolls the hour
from steepled tow’r, the moon on high it rides,
the shadows deep among the tombs that lour,
engorgèd by the phantoms loosed inside,
the eve of hallows calling up the dead;
now down the steps from gloomy pillars high
a sombre lady, dark, she drifts ahead,
then kneels before a grave and sighs.
A chant she sings, lament of love and loss,
behind a second moon arises full
and ghastly bright its light on stone and cross,
from fresh made grave a shape it conjures, pulls.
The lady rises, arms embracing wraith,
she sinks with him earthwards in deathless faith.


Line count: 14
Sonnet, iambic pentameter, rhymed ababcdcdefefgg
For Dark Dreamscapes Poetry Contest, Round 47 October 2021
Prompt: Illustration #1 Lady in moonlit graveyard.