Moonlight - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
A silver beam of moonlight walked toward the window, entering in pristine silence, igniting every corner. It was not enough to devour the darkness that had been residing in that room longer than she cared to admit, yet was enough for her eyes to bathe in it and momentarily expand her perception of her surroundings.
A sliver of moonlight spilled into the room, not enough to ignite the fiery hues of the Indian rug, but enough to navigate between the rough wooden chairs to the exit beyond. Before Tara even opened the door she knew it was a cloudless night and the sky would be freckled with stars.
The moonlight was a diffuse ocean above them, lessening the inky blackness of the night, but not so bright as to dull the stars that speckled and glittered in the heavens above.
The moonlight shone like a search light for Sasha, but although they could not find her by it's silver beam, she knew if she followed it she was at least not travelling in circles.
The moonlight splashed down its watery white-silver glow onto the city, bathing them, illuminating them. And in the distance the trees were silhouetted against the deep velvety sky.
Moonlight poured from the sky like the milk of a god that required no sustenance and instead was satisfied with only the beauty of the soft rays.
Outside was nothing but moon speckled darkness, but at least it was not the kind of utter blackness that swallowed a person whole, it was instead a shadowy world painted in grey-scale. Janvier pulled on his winter jacket and work boots and stepped out into the cold rain-dampened yard. It wasn't like his Tom to be out so late, in these troubled times even a young man should be home before nightfall.
The warmth of the day had leached back into the land by time Selena stole out of the kitchens and into the grounds. She skipped lightly across the moon-bleached stones to the duck pond that on a clouded night would be only an inky pool, but tonight the moonlight shone on the water like a pale band of silver, illuminating the ripples that spread outwards from the impact of the knife. Then without so much as a backwards glance she skipped back off to bed, the only sign of her treachery the dampness on her shoes and some grass burrs stuck to the hem of her night-gown.
The moonlight spilled onto his chest and shoulders.
Moon-bleached stones, moonlight shone on the water like a pale band of silver, moon speckled darkness, sliver of moonlight, moonlight spilled into the room.
Igor would describe the moonlight as his only companion in the darkness. And it's soft shimmering glow held another purpose, it gave him a direction in what would otherwise been a maze of impenetrable blackness.
The moonlight shone down, a diffuse glow, lighting the forest from pitch black to charcoal grey.
A milky white light poured into the room, spilling across the floor in a large puddle. The greenery soaking up the valuable, pale light cascading over the tender leaves of the herbs. The light flowed throughout the room, flooding the substantial amount of stone.
Spilling from the hands of the night sky; seeping into every crevice of the desolate valley.