Dear Tom and Meghan,

 

       My husband and I love the moon and frequently stand is its' gaze on beautifully moonlit nights. Please know I share my heart with yours across the moonbeams!  Our favorite moon is full and dances in and out of billowy,

wind-blown clouds. We call this moon a "ghostly galleon" from one of our favorite child-hood poems:

 

"The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,

the moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas.

The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moors

And the highwayman came riding, riding, riding;

The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn door."

                                                          from  The

Highwayman by Alfred Noyes

 

Warmly,

Leslie (Mc)