When the moon chooses
To take her face behind
Her silver gray garment,
And goes less bold
Before the eyes of earth,
She turns her face and hides,
And from hight to low
She shakes the tides.
There is nothing she might say
Could quell our seas
When she feels like touching,
But cannot be touched,
When she feels like looking,
But not like being watched.
For millions will feel her force,
And all must surely know,
Only one can make them ebb,
For only one can make her fade.
When he goes beyond her reach
She turns her head and sighs,
Caring less for all earth's eyes.
Mar 19, 2013
Mar 19, 2013 at 8:45 PM UTC
When the moon chooses
To take her face behind
Her silver gray garment,
And goes less bold
Before the eyes of earth,
She turns her face and hides,
And from hight to low
She shakes the tides.
There is nothing she might say
Could quell our seas
When she feels like touching,
But cannot be touched,
When she feels like looking,
But not like being watched.
For millions will feel her force,
And all must surely know,
Only one can make them ebb,
For only one can make her fade.
When he goes beyond her reach
She turns her head and sighs,
Caring less for all earth's eyes.
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