Is the moon lonely up there in the night?
All on its own – way out of sight
Behind the clouds and right up high
It looks quite clumsy in all that sky
And what does it do…why is it there?
A huge bright eye that likes to stare
Sometimes it’s there and sometimes it’s not
A mottled face or a cheesy dot
It can wax or wane – whatever that means
And is much much bigger than it actually seems
A quarter of a million miles away
It bears man’s prints from his short-lived stay
From Latin’s Luna we get our moon
And the poem of a dish and a spoon
The tides of our oceans obey its desires
It follows our planet but never tires
In music and words the moon appears
It makes us laugh and forces our tears
A moonlight sonata, a river, or face
Shakespearean play or prayer for grace
A sea of tranquillity looks down on us
On our deserts and lakes, our fields green and lush
A core of iron with a surface of rocks
It decides our dates, our moods and our clocks
They say it gives a vampire its might
And shines to guide us on pitch black nights
But perhaps we’ll never really know
What’s behind the creamy, patchwork glow
The earth’s protective satellite
Amazing, proud and always bright
Gaze up one night and stay a while
And give our moon a friendly smile
S.Y. Palmer
