Moon-Dreams

I held the moon in the palm of my hand.

I walked the rusty rails in a silent land.

I rested soft beneath the sleeping pine.

And I thought of the promises that were mine.

Moon dreams born so sweet in the depths of the heart.

I held out my hand and watched the moon rise in the dark.

I sleep; I dream and I hold on to the promises of….

thee…the moon and I.

J. Allen Wilson © 6/6/2009**** Full Moon Productions 7-7-2009