Good Evening Promenade
This night the moon cast a light
for just a moment, a trust, a lust,
a gaze at the lingering lazy crowded stars.
The wind decided to play, upon its way
found its voice releasing its hold
whished a while around the ground
disturbing the old mole's layer of mold.
A roar tore through the silent moor
proposing passion through the naked, shaking trees;
never being meek, it took their boughs and danced a while.
Their get-together are always fun.
The wind promenaded into the park of yellow
blew words arousing the blue birds caressing their nesting fellows.
Lightning flashing, lighting, casting glamour over shadows,
zigzagging playfully around the meadow.
Rain of course forced a breath in and a breath out.
The ground was a blur throughout.
Gentle whispering disappears gulping in the air.
The owl gave a howling screech turning its head with a smite scowl
with that the wind decided to call it a night.
3/25/2018
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