Silver LightMature

Inspiration comes
Beneath the bower
The moon shines through
Its light a reminder

The shadows flit about
The moon rises high
Light reflects on the waters
Shadows turn to demons

This midnight sun
Rising high above
Its gentle light
A chaste guide

The path I walk
Lit from above
Tis not yellow light I see
But silver surrounding me

The End

8 comments about this poem Feed