storm phantom – A Sonnet

the treetops whispered quiet
of purple rain and sky
the river slithered, sly
and the silver moon was bright.
swift winds whistled white
and watched the golden lie
of a fiery sunset die
into a stormy night.
and there I saw you, phantom,
like a dream within a dream.
now, each stormy night I see
beneath the willow tree
your shadow-hidden gleam
until lantern sets you free.

T. E. Pyrus

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