Whispers of a Moonbeam
Sentinel, through cloud cover, as a lover discovering each other,
the moonbeam cuts the stillness of the secret night.
Illuminating nightjars in flight and denizens
of the dark embarking on their nocturnal ramblings.
Shambling, snuffling and shuffling
through fern and field and briars unyielding
thorny embrace, they race the dawn,
whilst the sleeping fawn dreams of sweet meadow grass.
Alas, the beams light is transient and ambient blackness is restored,
as dark, rolling clouds once more enshroud woodland,
moor and rocky tor until, once more,
the clouds are rent and another beam is sent.
Stabbing, grabbing the dark in stark illumination and yet,
it softly settles on bog cotton and nettles as a whisper to an ear,
translucent and clear, endearing itself to artists and lovers,
poets and others and mothers night feeding their young.
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