I'm Ivette, a poet from the ironically named town, Albrightsville.

Slumber(Moonbeams)
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Half asleep with the shudders down
The rays of moonbeams peaking out

One by one, each second is counted
Till slumber is at the peak of its mountain

Empty tears that slip from irritated lids
Stop at once as the moon went out & hid

Pure dark engulfed the sky; lay there still
With a barren thought & a urge to kill

Ignore the need & wait till sunrise
Maybe awaiting ahead is a surprise

Close thy eyes; rest assured
God leaves a whisper; a murmer

Leaves comfort for sleep & dreams
Slumber silently & enjoy the moonbeams.
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I know...its totally offbeat, but I like it that way.