for an unnamed love The moon rises slow and magnificent, Radiant as a virginal regent. The moon adorns the horizon Of her forehead. And I, enchanted like a child, Held under the allure of her eyes, I gaze entranced into the skies, Quiet as grass. The moon gathers her silken robe. The gates are shut behind her. And even the winds desert me. Solitaire in the silent night: My harvest are her footprints, The heartache in her wake. Olu Oguibe