Facades and foundations are all that remain, Of the city from which her spirit once came. Underneath the dust, and the rubble there lay, Narrow streets lined with gold… least that’s what they say. During one summer, when the moon shone just right, A man’s said to have seen her, There dancing at night. It’s believed that their hearts were at once set on fire, On top of that mountain, beyond the old mire. Now legend it goes… that once every June, Some see their shadows, up in the full moon. — by JanetWord Count: 91 Weekend Writing Prompt #88: Foundations Today’s Accomplishment: Write an Acrostic Poem (and I just learned what that was yesterday, so this was a challenge indeed!) Peace & Love Everyone!