Dearest Wanderers, thank you for wandering far and wide - far enough and wide enough to wander back.
I have caught a poetry bug - or it has captured me. This one is from a couple moons ago.
*****
Moonnight
The moon is
drifting, drifting,
O’er the
world below,
The mist is
lifting, lifting,
Born of
glittering snow.
The dancing
sprites of Northern Lights
Are bending,
bowing low,
While mist
is lifting, the moon is drifting
‘Cross the
glittering snow.
The moon is
drifting, drifting,
Through the
ocean sky.
The stars
are sifting, sifting,
Pearls
floating by.
The hoary
trees, my whispering skis
Like silver
echoes fly,
While stars
are sifting, the moon is drifting
Midst the pearly
sky.
The moon is
drifting, drifting,
Free from
ancient care
The clouds
are shifting, shifting,
Shadows in
the air.
Elusive hue
of midnight blue,
Enchanting
unaware,
While clouds
are shifting, the moon is drifting
Through the shadowy air.
