Crescent moon cradled
in stratosphere’s ice
crystal aura embrace:
deathly yet sublime.
My breath whispers
mysteries of dragons.
Lovely poem; well done. Reminds me of your closeness to Cymru. There be poets!
Cheers, me duck. Was chilly taking out the rubbish. Paused by the bins a while to look at the clear night sky.
Ahh, what a wonderful, mysterious, magical poem.
Thanks, Thomas. A pleasure to meet you.
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