Birdsong is ebbing out
into the shadowless night
blossomed branches
weeping fragrant petals
into the dark unseen
as the lady moon
rises into the sky
drowning me in her silver
memories are drifting
on the gentle breeze
and I feel a ghostly touch
soft whispers echoing
and time stands still
drenched
in the ethereal beauty
of the moment
© Ann Bagnall
Annie's Poetry 