A poem by Henry Maust
The moon, the moon,
a simple sphere
sitting beyond our atmosphere.
Gleaming, glowing,
sharing its light,
it guides me through the longing night.
The moon is like an ice cream scoop,
but when the sun comes out to play,
this scrumptious scoop fades away.
How silky smooth its silver blanket
that covers up the darkest secrets.
Tags
Moving and thought provoking.
That’s beautiful Henry. I’ve always loved the moon.
Lovely Henry! I love the moon, yesterday it appeared full moon like in the day showed itself all night, shining very bright! I had to wonder how it felt to be on the mountain!
I really like the poem!
I thought the comparison to a scoop of ice cream was very clever!
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