Now light sinks into hibernation rays of sunshine
become as pallid
as faded love affairs,
unhappened mystical changes then muster
for roll-call by spreading
moon's taste into the corners of dusk.
A pale crescent glow pervades the bowl of misty
crushed-velvet above,
as cool beams
from pearl moondrops bleed ice into the remains
of sunset, like a white
avalanche dusting lunar-flakes over day.
Scent of moonbeams preparing for flight ignite dark,
and sunset now conquered,
the light has to retire,
bleeding wounds seep red streaks over paling
blue as moon takes power,
for after tasting first-fruits she intends reigning.
So beautiful Fay...A sprit soother...a treasure of poetic everything good! Dorothy A Poet Who Loves To Sing