Mike Corthell

Mike Corthell
Editor & Publisher at Fryeburg Free Press MEDIA

Sunday, August 26, 2012

Silent Moon


Silent Moon




One night as little Neil lay strong asleep,
Into his drowsy eyes
A great still light began to creep
From out of silent skies.

It was the harvest moon's, for when
He raised his dreaming head,
It's surge of silver filled the pane
And streamed across his bed.

So, for a while, each gazed at each-
Young Neil and the solemn moon-
Till, climbing slowly on it's way,
It vanished, and was gone.

Michael
August 26, 2012

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