Over The Moon Poem by Matt Mooney

On a night of high wind and of rain
Into my dreaming it silently came
As I lay in my tent by the sea-
A most beautiful swallow to me.

I gladly warm welcomes extended
Then on my palm gently it landed;
The swallow I gave to my love
Who came to me soft as a dove.

The look on her face was so tender
At the sign of true love that I gave her:
To Ireland it comes back with loyalty
Despite the long flight and its frailty.

She spoke to me and shyly confided
That my lonliness was not one sided,
That often she thought of the evening,
The goodbyes to romance at leaving.

Then the scene in the dream it ended-
By a storm it was sadly suspended;
Awaking, her praises I put to a tune,
Floating around, I was over the moon.

(My own translation of my poem Aux Anges.)