The moonlight shines down on the moor.
Through gray depressions of wide spread clouds.
The nightingales and other singers soar.
Their songs a glistening whisper instead of something loud.
The wind lashes through the land, making it cold.
The mournfulness and depressions it does un fold.
The Moonlight shines down across the moor.
Etching out lines like ribbons in it's core.
The stars are twinkling, able to be completely seen.
And yet, the elements come together in contravene.
The lavender waves in quiet, small, dainty waves.
The sunlight and attention they do always crave.
Here is this scene, sketched in the moonlight.
Here is this scence, sketched in black and white.
The Moonlight Shines Down on the Moor