by Jesse Glick, ©1999

The sun kept setting--setting--still,
And soon the moon will rise.
The silvery rays dropped on the ground
A pair of bright green eyes.

The eyes shone brightly in the dark,
Like pale enchanted gold.
Striking in the moonlit night
A fairy tale of old.

The girl walked out into the mist,
With hair like blazing fire.
The moon shone down upon her still
As she vanished in the mire.

The wind blew softly in the mist,
As she vanished in the night.
Never more to be seen again
Except in pale moonlight.