Becky Gray


Seeking The Moon

Peering through black hazed clouds,
The moon shimmers with all her grace.
The people stand with their pure trust,
As their eyes take her shape.
And in the midst of their cold desire,
They covet her beauty, her ageless face.
Reaching up with outstretched arms,
They seek but cannot grasp her.
Touched by her lushes glow,

[Report Error]