Last night I looked outside,

And saw a pool of water,

There wasn’t any tide,

But I still caught her.

A little girl wading,

With skin like pale milk,

Crying, raiding,

Skin shining like silk.

She emitted a soft glow,

A tear dropped from her eye,

The wind did slightly blow,

She let out a little sigh.

I called into the night,

“Who are you, little girl?”

The girl looked very startled,

Very shocked upon my sight,

But then replied, “I’m moonbeam,”

And gave a little twirl.

Strange things did happen then,

And I was shocked to see,

The pool turned a ghastly glow again,

I thought it was a dream.

The little girl’s tears did fall,

As she climbed out of the pool,

Answering a call, an angry sort of drawl,

She whispered to none I can see, perhaps it was a rule,

“Oh, how I’ll miss this little pool.”

That night was very odd,

No odder would it be,

If the little girl came once again to the lodge,

And stayed for me to see.

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