Sonal Singh On Sonal's Table
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In its cradle, the crescent moon slept
Occasionally peaking from behind the eiderdown
Of soft cottony clouds that blew wantonly,
Almost willfully in the skies.
Ah! It was a starry, starry night;
Made of twinkling brilliance amid the granite skies.
The stars sparkled, magical dust of diamonds
Strewn on the canvass of the world.
They winked and twinkled like little crystals
Sewn into the obsidian gown of the debutante moon.
The lover in me gazed and sighed
At the beauty O so carelessly draped
Over the world like an artist’s masterstroke,
Just like dreams, left to wander in the dark night.
Image – Benjamin Voros via unsplash
