I can see a pail of moon
Spilled over your head
Long rivulets of moonlight dripping
Touching the terra firma of your face
Remains of the day;
Lost like a crayon or pendant
In the crevices of sofa
Hold out promises
Mugged from the fat purse of time
Fingers reach out for your tuned timed strings

But start bleeding songs
sung in pagan tune
Set in illicitly trafficked verse

Moon descends to claim its pail
Turns red
Night sneaks into
A crevice of sofa

Frank Lisa IndiRa Francesca Roger Platt Cornish Martin

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-fleeting-glimpse-of-tomorrow/