UNDER THE MOONLIGHT

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John Herlihy

Such misty glow,

Darkness coming to know.

Diamond light on grass fingertips,

Night lights reach to touch my lips.

The breeze a fluttering fan,

In the moon’s face an old man.

Reflections in sleepy lakes,

Shimmering glass that breaks.

The croaking of a distant toad,

Fireflies on the wind rode.

The wind on the prowl,

The sound of a haunted owl.

It’s the light that matters,

Such wonder the mind staggers.

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(c) John Herlihy 17 February 2020