Picture courtesy www.cathedvalson.typepad.com
As she turned
And walked away,
The moon was coming
Up over the hills,
Her figure draped in the
Glow of grey
Intertwined with the
Underlining shadows of the night.
Stare I did,
Forgot to blink
My eyes parched
Tinctures of red and
Dreamy pink,
A ray of sun
Draped in moonlight
On a night with furrowed brows,
Picture perfect,
Not even a thousand words
Could properly translate.
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