The Moon
The moon has a face like the clock in the hall,
She shines on thieves in the garden wall,
On streets and fields and harbour quays,
And birds asleep in the forks of trees.
The squalling cat and the squeaking mouse,
The howling dog by the door of the house.
The bat that lies in bed at noon,
All love to be out by the light of the moon.
But all of the things that belong to the day
Cuddle to sleep to be out of her way,
And flowers and children close their eyes
Till up in the morning the sun shall arise.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
