Hour Two Poem.

In soft moonlight

On a clear

Calm night

The trees

Silhouetted by the stars,

I met the devil

A handsome fellow

He was quite charming

A trifle alarming

He greeted Good Morning

I should have taken,

Mothers warning

To never trust

A man past midnight

Riches I can bestow

upon you he said

A treasure island

He whispered

The air suddenly crisper

the soft moonlight

waning in after hours

my prospects sour

I asked him dour

Be honest now devil

Of what do you speak?

He replied

Up the River

An Island betwixt

The two river branches

Lies the treasure

but you’ll measure

it’s worth for yourself…

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