The Moon

Soaring and swooping through the trees was a dove, As I lay on the grass and gazed up above, The clouds in the sky; they were glistening snow, And the sun? A yellow ball being tossed to and fro, And when night fell, I was still lying there, (I was a lazy fellow, with time aplenty to spare), The moon was high up, with a round milky glare, It just glowered and scowled as it cried in despair, “O white Moon,” I asked, “why the sad face?, You have elegance and beauty, you have poise and grace! You have an entire sky full of glittering stars, And yet you still glare so terribly from afar?” The Moon replied, “Boy, the reason I glare, Is because even the space and the stars can’t compare, To the simple wonders your lands contain, To the diamond waterfalls, the strange grey rain, The brown earth, the green ground, where you toil day long, The whispers of a tall tree, and the nectar- bird-song! How strange that even asteroids have no appeal to me, When the question comes to dolphins, and deep blue sea.” “O gleaming Moon,” I cried, “Please don’t be sad, Come down, I have an idea, though it may be mad! On some days, you can live down here on the ground, And if you stay hidden, I’ll show you around, I’ll show you craggy mountains that stand proud and tall, I’ll show you caves dressed in darkness’ shawl, And as long as you don’t shine terribly bright, I’ll show you the secrets of the jungles at night.” So this is how it all came to be, How the moon grows and shrinks up in the night sea, There’s waxing and waning all year round, There’s a full moon and no moon and crescents abounds, And if you look up at the moon one full moon night, You will see its face shining, so happy and bright!