Moonbeams



Beam me down, celestial light
Down the shimmering moonlight satin
Over the stark white honeysuckle blooms
Deep, deep into the dewy grass
Crossing over the coral rose buds waiting to unfold
Finally tiptoeing into my cherished, dense garden.
I am wearing my long cotton nightgown
It brushes gently across my bare legs
The hem is now damp from the damp grass and mulch.
The sweet scent in the air lightens me and
I am engaged in the mystery of the night air
Mindless of the day’s melancholy weight.
Slowly I walk the path of bricks gent placed in fine sand.
I can barely wee the darkened dusky Echinacea
That look like pink umbrellas half open
I step tentatively behind the red-orange azalea
To the sweet dwarf lilac sending
Wafts of perfume into the silent night.
Carefully I step across the path to the tall dahlias
Almost ready to bloom, delightful dinnerplate size blooms
In soft pink, striking magenta and shouting yellow
In my mind’s eye I see the many bouquets to be had.
At the corner of my eye I see a dark form
A large raccoon moving silently along the stone wall.
Lifting my gown I step towards the wire fence
Where miniature clematis, tendrils moving up, have closed blooms
Of the barest hint of blue in the daytime, simply white at night
I stare quizzically at the bare hillside next to the house.
It has defied my gardener’s hands
With only a few ferns here and there.
Along the steps comes our feral cat, fluffy orange fur
And blue eyes that glow like fireflies. He rubs
My bare legs and gently head butts my ankles.
He seems to want human contact
But only on his terms
I respect his independence, wishing I had more.
Now on the patio I move to sit in my rocking chair.
Back and forth, Back and forth
I smile at what I can barely see; I smell the sweet moist air
Back and forth, back and forth
I find peace of mind from the stars and myriad light
I am content.
Sheila W. Mooney
June 2009



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