Dancing To the Moon

Oh man, oh stupid moron twerp, how could you be so bigoted and intolerant? For I too saw her every blessed night dancing in the glade, a youthful dance, moon rays shining through dark boughs, as she pirouetted, unshod and skimpily dressed, deep in the dark green forest, where no song birds trilled. She delighted in her freedom, she asked no one for help, her food was all that she could find, from the hedges and the trees. Wild apples, uncultivated mushrooms, yummy blackberries, cranberries and hazelnuts, all depending on the season. And although emaciated, she was strong, dancing to the moon, in a silent interlude. Until some idiot decided she was mad, others agreed, and in an asylum she was sent: Only to die. Oh stupid feathered brained man!