The Moon
The moon hangs in the sky, shining so bright;
Everything below, enveloped in a silvery light.
Once darkened corners, are now subtlely lit,
As, silhouetted against the moon, bats now flit.
The moon appears early, on a winter’s afternoon;
Aware that the onset of darkness, will begin soon.
Occasionally, we get to witness a solar eclipse,
When the moon, in front of the sun’s face, slips.
The milky moon, reflected on the restless ocean,
Highlights the wild water’s never ending motion.
A silvery ribbon stretches from horizon to shore;
A mesmerising sight which, many people adore.
This celestial light is totally natural in its source:
Commanding tides, with a strong, gravitational force.
The moon waxes and wanes, from full to crescent:
Whatever form it takes, the view is always pleasant.
Everything in sight, is painted with a silvery splash,
As darkness and light, now mix together, and clash.
From the moon, there radiates a milky, white glow,
Which kisses everything, in its path, down below.
Illuminated by the sun, the moon appears to shine;
But this is all down to its make-up and clever design.
The moon is highlighted against the black, velvet sky,
And will still be hanging there, years after we all die.
poem by Angela Wybrow
Added by Poetry Lover
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