The Flight of The Lunar Moth

A silver ghost on moonlit wings, Flutters through night's velvet curtain. Pale dancer in celestial rings, Of earthly cares, she's now uncertain. A living moonbeam, fragile, light, Drawn to stars like distant flowers. Navigating by lunar sight, Through shadowed groves and midnight bowers. In twilight's realm, she briefly gleams, An ephemeral wisp of dreams.