Mar 2019
The moon.
What a beautiful sight!
A glittering bead
in the dark of the night.
A hole poked through
an expanse of black paper
providing us light
indirectly in our favor.
Children, roam free!
bathe in the glowing moonlight
that illuminates dewy grass
through the glorious night.
Shadows in the dark,
Let them do no harm!
for the after-hour children
are peculiar, yet precious charms.
They have
no mother arms,
a father, they have none.
So nobody knows
where they truly come from.
All we can know,
is that, come night,
there they will roam
in the gleaming light.
Such beauty in their mystery.
What a beautiful sight!
A glittering bead
in the dark of the night.
A hole poked through
an expanse of black paper
providing us light
indirectly in our favor.
Children, roam free!
bathe in the glowing moonlight
that illuminates dewy grass
through the glorious night.
Shadows in the dark,
Let them do no harm!
for the after-hour children
are peculiar, yet precious charms.
They have
no mother arms,
a father, they have none.
So nobody knows
where they truly come from.
All we can know,
is that, come night,
there they will roam
in the gleaming light.
Such beauty in their mystery.
Look who finally wrote a poem that's not sad or angry! A friend told me I should try to write a happy poem because it can make you feel better, and not to mention I told a friend the same thing a few days before that and I wouldn't want to be a hypocrite. I really like it!
