Moonlight
My father hated moonlight
And pulled the curtains down,
Each time the snow of moonlight
Came drifting on the town.
He was an old frontiersman,
And on their deadly raids,
Comanche's rode by moonlight
In stealthy cavalcades;
And took the settlers' horses,
Or left a trail of red -
He came to love the darkness,
And hated the moon, he said.
I've came to like it through
When me and Drew
Would lie beneath it
With the stars as our blanket,
And the ground as our bed.
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