The moon shone bright
in the middle of the night,
rolling ‘round a starry sky,
brushing her hand
‘cross a snowy, sleeping land
she heaved a jaded sigh.

“There’s no one
to play with and have fun
since the water froze below.
And the only sparks
I can kindle in the dark
are the pale ones on the snow.”

Then peering ‘round
a window ledge she found
a dark cascade of prisms.
A beam she cast
sparked a rainbow, and she laughed
as the colours gleamed and glistened.

She played all night
with the prisms and the light
and she never once suspected
that a wakeful eye
was a witness to the sight
and bathed in the light reflected.