There it comes, now rising slow,
Moonbeams through the mist do flow.
Gently touching every tree,
Soft it glows, on you and me.
Watching this moon, floating there,
Brightest beams, go everywhere.
Through the mist, these wondrous beams,
Touch the heart, and fill with dreams.
Misty moon, still rising slow,
With purest light, beams that glow.
Misty moon, yet now so high,
Spreads it’s beams, all o’er the sky.
Misty moon, light drifting through,
Touching us, with dreams so true.
©2022 Steve McLeod.