0 The Ways of Nature

The moon is a wonder of its own. It hears the ocean's whisper and the wolf's cry. But so long as it's in the sky, Beauty will reign, and evil is overthrown.
Bathed in the blue evening glow, Are those tall green trees, topped with snow. Blood of crimson clashes with snow of white. It suggests the kill, like wolves in the night.
A woman's face can be so much more In the soft glow of the night, Or behind hanging branches, barely in sight, Or distant on a sandy shore.
Even a young girl, lost in emotion, Her eyes so bright, her lips so red, Can make the stars her blanket and the grass her bed, And escape from all the commotion.


--Marissa B., 13