Moonlight On The Ward

Written by: Charlotte Puddifoot

Midnight. This white ward drifts softly through chalked moonbeams shifting walls argent to cream, sifting sterile halls. Full moon fingers reach within touching each silvered sheet-shroud. Jaded nurses drowse, vials drip crystalline hope elixirs into sick veins, bedside water jugs shimmer with ivory pearls, glimmer-gentle light soothes pain. Shades of frailty flit, whisperings of the once-well; escapees from harsh daylight's hot taunts of the sun. Reality receding, moonlight kinder to dreaming. Caught between two worlds, health and no-way-out unhealth; fear smoothed by the balm of calm. Lustrous illusions, in this vault of dream we wait for morning's impending fate.