The moon; she beckons with wanton abandon. Her glowing tresses weave their silken threads across the open field. Soft beams blend as her wondrous smile wanes on those fortunate enough to see her; fortunate enough to take the time to watch her dance. We stand there, admiring her finesse, mesmerized by the darkness draped behind her, sparkling with gems so beautiful it’s hard not to stare.
Peace envelopes our shivering bodies as she captures our attention again, flaunting her brightness. She knows just how beautiful she is and uses her assets to her advantage. Even the sleepy birds turn in their hidden alcoves to watch the show.
Time passes unnoticed as the sound of giggling imps and their loveable mutt chase each other under her watchful eye. They know that their time is limited and squeeze the fun out of every second they are allowed to play under her watchful eye.Soft serenades float through the air; we are not alone. Others have been drawn out from their comfortable homes to greet her, to watch her and admire her. She beckons to them as she calls to me: dance with me. Dance! Who can refuse such an invitation.
With flittering feet, I alight the stars trapped in her dark cloak and jig to the soft ethereal music of the night. She laughs at my sad attempts to emulate her beauty, forgiving my state of mad love in her presence. After all, when the moon beckons, no-one can refuse to dance.
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