A crescent moon casts a subtle sheen upon a golden yellow counterpane Bathing the buttermilk walls in a warm pale translucent glow A shimmer of starlight on the ceiling reflects its echo..in a million moondust prisms Whilst across the window which bade them enter hangs a filmy gauze of muslin and lace Fragile folds forever outstretched in their endless quest to catch a dream
Reason for writing:
I saw an advert featuring a sleeping baby with moonbeams dancing across the ceiling and a breeze gently blowing the lace curtains.
Birth sign: Not entered
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