Gossamer Wings

Grandma Gertie tells a tale of her younger days
when she would watch the moon rise
above the foggy haze
from her bedroom window
through the curtain lace
winged with clouds of gossamer
the moon took on such grace.
She would nestle in the covers
and blow the moon a kiss
to celebrate its transcendence
through the nightly mist.
And then the moon would sing to her
a gentle lull-a-bye,
and she would dream the gossamer wings
were hers, and she could fly.
                           --Rhea Giffin ©1999
                     Looking Lunarly Series

   Rhea Giffin • P.O. Box 1151 • Coeur d’Alene, ID 83816 • USA • (208) 664-1691 • fineart@RheaGiffin.com

site content ©2005 . Rhea Giffin . all rights reserved
Any commercial use or distribution of these images and/or poetry
without the expressed permission of Rhea Giffin is forbidden.
Thank you for your respect.
web design by CheriCalvert.com