Moonlight Advances.

Curtains of mystical light Pattern my room, quite soundless Piercing white recedes the gloom And silvers my head bounteously. Moonbeams are lacing the walls. Flooding sheen over pale hung Threads, which shimmer down my face Webbing me brightly They string along My bed, change shape, and ready Themselves for dance. As they wait To advance towards the door Lace, lunar-made, now oscillates. Arms high I slowly enter Lustrous circled dream, become Entranced with gleaming movement, And moonlight lace and I seem one.