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Night



How well the moonlight illuminates the ground,
making errie shadows dance round and round,
casts caracture creations on low ebbing tide,
each one a masterpiece; nature's bride.

Long lost sighs hang onto the night,
repetition abounds like some anicent rite,
collective appeals rent expectant air,
culminate together in ritual prayer.




A contest entry

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Comments


  • HereComesTheSun
    April 18

    Edit | Reply
    im normally not a fan or rhyme but you did it very well, you also had some amazing words and overall a splendid flow
    thanks for entering