Poetry

Purple Moon

Lead me to the place
of fairy tales and make believe;
Where the ladies make magic
and the men dance.

Where silence is
the weapon of choice
and those who would harm
have no voice.

The winds play on.
The sky shows
shades of gray
turning to lavender.

The magic seeps
into the moon.
A little boy plays a tune
on his flute.

The notes scurry
as if in a hurry
to touch the ear
of any who would listen.

 

Photo by lisaleo

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3 thoughts on “Purple Moon”

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