The moon, glittering,

Shimmers through the boughs

Of a delicate tree,

With tinsel leaves

Holding lightly to the

Tips of its whispering fingers,

Waiting deliciously

For a gasp of wind.

Silver grass creeps and

Snuggles around the trunk

Waiting to catch them.

Meanwhile the delicate

Boughs split the moon

Into a thousand

Shattered fragments.

I absolutely love this poem, and think of it often. The imagery is so delicate and magical. I think it perfectly captures that moment of stillness, the idea of twilight blending into midnight. It is like a Japanese painting, a childrens' story book, a weird animation, a dream. However, I've been unable to find out anything at all about Dennis Pitt, nor any other reference to this poem. It was published in 1964 in an anthology, Every Man Will Shout, Oxford University Pess, which combined works of adults and young people. Dennis Pitt was still at school when this was published! Surely he wrote more beautiful and magical poems. The copyright is still his!