Once every pristine, radiant, full moon,
There was a fable that was told..
It was told to ears young and old.
The Tale was spoken with gentle tune.
Its was said that on a night like ours
There was a lake absent of stars.
The moon was only present above the water’s gleam.
The sight of this was like that of a dream.
The entire lake glowed by the moon’s radiant light.
The lake was like milk poured from the moon’s bright.
This was not all that was there to see.
The lake had a secret not known to be free.
From the glowing white waters, ripples were formed.
A figure of beauty emerged from the bright.
She started to move; a dance she did perform
From her back, wings began to take flight.
She flew through the air
And cascaded from the sky.
As the moon fell asleep, she glowed like a flare.
Descended into the lake with tears she did cry,
It was the angel of the lake never wanting to say, “Good Bye.”