She was the moon,
Her pale hair in braids,
Humming her little tune,
Her serene features making contrasting shades,
She was beautiful,
With the sun gleaming in her eyes,
Though careful,
From enduring so much demise.
When the sun goes to sleep,
She and her children come out to shine,
You see her when you're counting sheep,
Even more than divine.
When you go to bed,
She kisses your lips,
As a last goodbye,
Before seeing you again.
N.P.R.
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©npreyes2017
Posted on 4/14/17.
YOU ARE READING
Let It All Out
PoetryThis are just poems that I have written myself, about anything and everything. I hope you enjoy :).
