Moonlit

Your luminous light grazes fragile trees. A precious light, so pure; one of a kind. Across my knees I feel the gentle breeze, Just like all the thoughts flowing in my mind. I love the moons white, sincere, silent shine. Instilled with innocence, the field is dark. Throughout the air lies a strong smell of pine. The next moment, in the breeze drifts a lark. Suddenly, starting decent towards the park, A sharp, tense feeling of danger arrived. There seems to be something the lark has marked. In the shadows, someone love deprived. I reach out my hand so she's not alone. Guide her; she will soon make it on her own.