Moonlit Fields
In fields that tremble ‘neath the moon, Where shadows dance on stalks of wheat, The nightingales sing a soft tune, As dreams and reality sweetly meet.
The silver light drapes every blade, And bathed in glow, the world is still, While stars support in the night’s parade, Their radiant race, a cosmic thrill.
Oft wandering here, my soul takes flight, In the embrace of each gentle sigh, For in the heart of such a night, Life’s secret wisdom will not die.
- Mary Webb