The Moth
A little moth with wings outspread, Upon the fragrant flower lay, And fluttered like a dreams’ sweet bed Bright in the sunbeam’s shining ray.
A simple joy to life unmasked, It wove through petals, quick and soft; Intent on all the joys to bask, Lammering in shadows, sweet aloft.
So let the moth, by grace awake, Sow love into the twilight’s hair; For Life itself, sweet joys will take— A gentle dance, a dream, a prayer!
- John Clare