Photo by Aron Visuals on

Moonlit Night

The moon is low in the ebony air,

A glowing ball, with silver flare,

I see you rise above the pines;

A guiding lamp which beauty defines.

Moving across the sky with ease,

Clouds pass your orb upon the breeze.

I think of a time when the world was new,

Lighting the sky with your silver hue.

Sue Wood