she just adores nights when a silvery sheen spreads its fingers over the land. she always looks long and searchingly at the kind, mesmerising yet enigmatic moon in the darkened sky. sometimes she takes a turn in the garden on such nights, feeling and savouring the soft, soothing,tender moonlight on her ......
when the nightingales sing, a gust of wind ruffles her hair sending little tendrils onto her cheeks.....
and moonbeams tease little glow worms hiding in clumps of clover......
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