On a Star Lit Night

On a star lit night
Was a girl in white
Sitting right in the middle of the moon

And that girl in white
From that splendid height
Took flight down the path between the stars

Over cobweb cloud
Over forest proud
She bowed, looking ‘neath the star-strewn sky

For a flower white
Blooming in the night
She had dropped from her perch up on the moon

Over barn and spring
Over folded wing
Searched the girl, for her flower made of stars

Toward its shim’ring light
Gladdened by the sight
Did she soar, dropping down from purple sky

Taking up the bloom
Rising through the gloom
Of the dawn, toward the slowly sinking moon

From her lofty perch
Tired from her search
Watched the girl as the fading of the stars

Took away the night
And the dawns first light
Sang its song of brightness in the sky
And the girl laid down to wait for night.





Most of this poem was written in the last hour and fifteen minutes or so. Beacause the rhythm planted itself in my head out of nowhere while I was work. (Nowhere! I was shelving books and dusting and helping customers like a good little bookstore personage! I wasn't reading poetry or anything!)

Edits entirely possible, I'm not entirely happy with it... suggestions?