The Moon and the Damp

By Nicole Cater

She walks in beauty like the night*
Her ankles brush the dampness
The pasture has grown over long
And she had to time to fully dress
He was coming, he said he would
And she wouldn’t miss him ever
Not for all the damp ankles in the world
Someday, he would take her away
She could see it now even as she waited
And there, away, she would again wait
Wait for his return and his promises
She would wait, under the same moon
With her ankles still getting damp
She turned and glided back inside
 
*No offense to Mr. Lord Byron.  My intention was neither to improve upon the poem, not see if I could do better.  Alas for me, the poem simply did not work unless I used his first line.  All credit given where it is due.