Pearl Moon
Behind a gauze of softest grays
In a sky of baby blue
The moon in waxing gibbous phase
Rises slowly into view
She rests her cheek upon the haze
Of stratus thin and few
For so content is she to laze
As a goddess is wont to do
A precious gem to be appraised
A pearl, a treasure true
I feel I should avert my gaze
As dusk arrives on cue
Though mysteriously mute she stays
I still bid her adieu
The moon is set in her old ways
And I in my ways, too.
Copyright © Ina Goodling | Year Posted 2023
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