The moon slowly rising, o'er the moutain range,
Lights up a path for me.
Through this wonderful land so very strange,
Where ghostly shadows are all I see.
The joshua trees in silhouettes,
Tower o'er the land.
Like storybook giants with enormous heads,
Frozen on the desert sands.
Shadows of creosote are everywhere,
Like an angry Tolkien horde.
The Ocotillo like a hydra in her lair,
Stands silent without a word.
And all around the pale moonlight,
Shines with it's ghostly glow.
Such a beautiful, magical, surreal sight,
All over enchantment flows.
7/5/12 Alton Texas
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Another piece of wonder and mystery so well painted by your superb pen!