Catching the Moon.

Water, transparent as crystal
tastes of darkness when night falls,
and on evening sands, in fitful
patterns, pebbles gleam
in trelissed shawls,
faintly glimmering daylight's white.

Moon willfully plays shadow games
of catch-as-you-can, its sheen,
repeating sun's stronger rays, framed
now in lunalight, helps dreams
re-appear, moon-faced and bright.

Not pearls hidden in rocky seas,
nor all the gull-haunted bays
can keep me from penning meaning
into this time with verses
caught by magic of orb-stored light.