Moonbeams Of Blue

I stepped outside this summer night so fair,
There was a difference in this dark of night.
Of everything around I was aware,
It had a cast of blue that shimmered bright.

For all the trees their limbs were of azure,
And all the grass below the colors cast,
Were of the oddest shade, a tint so sure,
And as I looked about I held it fast.

The moon itself it seemed vanilla cream,
And yet the midnight ink of sky was deep.
I prayed that this was real and not a dream,
A scene so haunting that I could not sleep.

Perhaps this night The Lord was not asleep.
And took artistic liberties to heart.
He dipped His brush in paint piled in a heap.
Created with this mystic shade His art.

And then the earth he painted with a hue,
That shimmered in the glowing of the moon.
For every thing the beams lit turned to blue,
And night for me would surely end too soon.

Floria