In the moonlight of a darkened forest,
An animal arises.
It's shape was that of the most graceful tiger.
It's fur was as light as the color the moon,
Yet the silver sheen as bright as the sun.
The animal lifted it's head,
It's eyes a many shades of blue,
It's mouth the most distinct of lines,
It's graceful ears perked up,
Each with the smallest of cuts.
The animal sat down on it's muscled back legs,
It's tail wrapped around it's delicate front paws.
The animal elegantly lifted one paw and licked the back of it.
Then, it ran the back of the paw over it's forehead,
As elegant as a queen at a ball.
As the moon began to slide behind a cloud,
The animal slowly began to disappear.
Soon the animal was gone like a hidden soul.
Only to come back,
When the most pure of hearts arrived with the full moon,
In the deepest part of the forest of secrets.
The animal has arrived only twice in the great blue moon.
So now the people of today call it the Blue Moon Tiger.
 Lumiere Cachee · Sun Jun 03, 2007 @ 02:59am · 0 Comments |
