The forest glen was empty,
Or so it seemed to be.
An eerie light came tumbling down
And came to rest on me.
Not one crisp leafling rustled,
Nor any bushes stirred.
The velvet wind ceased blowing
And the dark alone was heard.
I'm looking up and in the sky
To see this wondrous sight.
The moon was like a fishes eye
And glowed a weird green light.
The softest touch I ever saw,
The strangest feeling heard.
And I lay on my back in the purple grass
And spoke no mortal word.
The green moon shone its eerie light
And I did not even care.
So I lay in the glen for most of the night
And died in the darkness there.
Copyright 1967, Diana W. Smith, All Rights Reserved