(L. b.)
Climbing to the top of the terrace,
The cold breeze of the night gently fluttered through my hair.
I gazed up into the depths of the night;
an unwinding silence.
A city at rest, so peacefully, so beautiful.
I watched the dark clouds move slowly,
To unveil the moon.
Its luminous flux of light,
Illuminating the night.
"How absolutely enchanting," I heard the wind whisper in my ears.
But on the rooftop,
Was something even more beautiful.
Radiant as ever,
The cold wind, blustering across her face,
And her hair, dancing in its lengthy, straight, blonde texture in response.
Her arms clenched tight,
With both hands wrapped around her body,
As a sign of surrender to the moon.
She turned her head in my direction;
I froze - completely still.
Not from the cold, but from her gaze.
A silence, like a frozen dome, stood still.
And, just like a dome,
She was an outstanding architectural perfection,
Carved in the beauty of silence.
Even though it was just a dream;
I had never seen anyone more beautiful.