I saw the ghost
Of a faded full moon
From the previous night
Looked like a painted scene
High upon, the light blue sky
As if a Master from the past
Laid his brush
On the canvass above.

The air I breathe, was clean and clear
I felt so good
I beat my chest like a silver back
Challenging the beauty
Of the scene before
My blest eyes.

Not a single cloud
Decorated the heavens
The air was cool
A soft breeze blew
I sweat not yet
Before noon.

My mind and eyes
Stared upon the ghostly moon
Of which I will surly
Scribe a few
Maybe several lines
To rhyme
With the rhythm and verses
I have interwoven
within my mind
From thoughts buried deep
Disturbed
like a sleeping dragon.

I have awaken
As my pen scribes
Words away
Placing them onto parchment
For others to read
Maybe on a rainy day.

By: William Bonilla
10/21/05