Touch the moon,
and feel it’s warmth as
cushioned emotions come sweeping past;
Dark shadows lurk across the
horizon, with fingers grasping for frayed edges…nibbling
at confidence, destroying
hope... but this glow of moondust, holds the sanity of the day
into place;
Moon beams snake across this
brow of sadness, lightening the
ashes of gloom to a silver bowl of thoughts;
Drowning in the sphere of helplessness,
flinging out a
silent plea.


There is something about French language that I find very soothing. Thank you








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