“...crescent”

This a fragment from a story I wrote years ago for broadcast. Once upon a time: Beulah's Window. The window was a symphony of dreams. The window was composed of dozens of shards. Cast off bits of stained glass that Beulah the Forest Woman, Beulah the Witch, Beulah the Angel had assembled into Magic. As the evening sun played across it. Here was illuminated a hand. ...fragments of clouds. There a lily here a smile. Then a yellow crescent moon. Throughout were floating embers of deep blue bright reds shades of gold and copper. In its upper portions were bits of alabaster doves, and a spray of purple, and rose. Such was Beulah's Window.