The lop-sided moth each morning does greet
            My cup of milked-espresso
            And it’s tint of pumpkin coloured wings
            Do unfold ever-slow-so
            “What news, do tell of fairy-land”
            I ask as it stares with antenn’d ears
            It cocks it's head in a smiled tilt
            And with a fluttered thought, off it disappears

            Silvia Pecota
            July 21, 2012