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Click here The moonbeam glanced through
gauze framed window pane.
It paused to watch a symphony
that seemed to dance as well as play.
Such beauty was the music made.
Along came a lone cloud who stopped to
watch the play.
Silken sheets rustled,
while soft moans filled the air.
The cloud watched as hands tangled
into long hair, limbs wrapping, holding,
carressing
The moonbeam listened, to what the
two shared, .
The night through they watched and listened,
content to watch the lovers play
with little bonzai shears. Nicely shaped, press on Cashmerekitten, press on. You have me looking forward to what may come. And I should like to add, your title is excellent. Too many of us forget that the title is the really the first line of a poem.
with Maria. Your images are sweetly done and i like the premise of your piece. take out the non essential words and get to the core and it will sing! thank you for your words today.
you have some good ideas here, specifically, moonbeam as voyeur. You could tighten it up a little bit with better line breaks to emphasize your ideas. Good start, and welcome to Lit
maria