Moonbeams
Awash in the moonlight
She moves lithely, a sight
to behold, her hair free,
Flowing black like the night,
Graceful as she can be,
Arms raised, spinning in glee,
Till the moon frames her face,
Hiding behind a tree,
Moonbeams gently embrace
her as she's giving chase
to soft, dappled shadows,
Rays of light, she can trace,
'Neath the Luna, time slows,
Hushed, her silhouette glows
as she circles back home,
Moon-rays seem to enclose,
Under the starry dome,
She always loves to roam,
She is simply struck by
selenophile syndrome.
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