The moon was bright that frosty night

he ghosted down the road;

her candle light came into sight,

its flicker barely showed.

His conscience itched but still he pitched

a pebble at the pane;

the curtain twitched, he was bewitched

to see her once again.

“Come down below and we will go,”

he whispered ‘cross the sill,

“For you must know I love you so,

and tha...

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