The White Moth

Rachelle Dawson
The white lady sits, dressed in lush finery
tailored to her sleek fuzzy body.
Puffed rings of fine white fur encircling the abdomen,
coarsening and tapering near the head.
Oh, the head, set with onyx beads for eyes,
crowned by thin black feathers, perfectly frayed feathers,
the gaps between the filaments so slight
only a child ought to notice.
About this skillfully fashioned body
hangs an exquisite cape, wrapping and hiding
those delicate parts which I have spied through the inside
of the window. White wings, thinly veined, hang close but wide.
The gold fur-lined hood resting against the silk-spun cape.
One cloudy jewel rests woven into each wing,
two misty gems winking at all who stop
and take notice of the little lady.

Published by Rachelle Dawson

As a freelance writer and editor, I've published articles, business copy, reviews. I've edited instructional articles and novels. In my spare time, my husband and I camp, pray together, and haggle over the s...  View profile

4 Comments

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  • Shirley Mandel6/30/2009

    Lovely poem. Intricate description.

  • Erika Bailey5/14/2009

    What a beautiful poem

  • Sheryl Young5/5/2009

    Wow - colorful tale!

  • Cindy Kearns4/30/2009

    I will look at moths differently from now on.

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