Islands of the Moon

Far out to sea in the great expanse of water an island lies Shaped like a crescent or bulls horns called the islands of the moon. White sands blown by gentle winds and washed by azure sea Lush forests filled with abundant shrubs and every fruiting tree. Animals roar and squeak some crawl and slither by The cool thermal air with everything that can fly. The outer ridge is like a sheer cliff wall where gannets dive, While within the crescent is calm and peace as gentle breakers roll. Clear green water with no weed clog shelter exquisite reef Where turtles come ashore at night to lay their precious eggs. Sea maids stretch out on the sands and sing their wandering song And passing whales reply with notes ponderous and long. Butterflies in glorious colour, cloud and gather in flittery throng While hummingbirds buzz and sup sweet nectar juice all day long. Caterpillars smoking hooka pipes sending smoky tendrils high, Moths both small and mighty trying to be the best in the sky. Within the central island a lough spreads and expands, Where waterfowl of everykind swim with nests close at hand. There is a mountain tall that towers over them all, Caring and protecting from stormy weather squall. His name is not known to mortals like you and I. His children alone know to pronounce it you would die. The islands of the Moon lie far out in the great sea, Tales alone are all we know as no eye has ever seen. Sailors, pirates and all who sail the mighty seas of the world, Under darken sky and myriad star all tell of something odd When on a misty night as the doldrums have taken hold, Sometimes can be heard the song of sea maids bold. To search all the seas would take a lifetime or more, Better to be safe asleep in hammock till ye snore. (C) Andrew Mcintyre