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| One lonely star Twinkling, Cradled by the silver moon Singing softly to itself In the darkness, Alone Against the velvety sky Drowning in the creamy Magical moonlight Weeping silently. Moonbeams and starlight Chasing each other Across the night Caressing the graceful hills. In the distance The celestial creations Fading Into the morning. Now pink streaks the Easter-egg sky. The sunlight's first rays Peep timidly over the hills Washing away all but memories Of moonbeams and starlight. ~Tammy |
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| "A poem begins with a lump in the throat; a homesickness or a love-sickness. It is a reaching-out toward expression; an effort to find fulfillment. A complete poem is where an emotion has found thought, and the thought has found the words." ~Robert Frost |
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