He shines, 
Like a yellow petalled rose,
Like an early sunrise,
That ignites a fierce fire 
Kissing a beaming pathway 
To his soul, 

His smells just like wells 
Of blooming flowers
In the middle of spring.
Twinkling as the pale starlight, 
Soft and want to be noticed.

He is gentle
Like a sudden raindrop
Dropping through the windows
Shining on the foggy morning.

And there he was again,
A wise soul of unwrapped love.
He was the moon
That I always like to write about.