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On the surface of the moon, high in the sky and far out of sight.
Lives a creature, in a crater, half in shade, half in light.
The creature has a snarky grin.
And that is where this story begins.
People find it hard to describe the creature they see.
“he’s tall” some say, others “he only comes up to my knee”.
Some say he has two legs; some say he has four.
Some say he has six legs; some say he has more.
Some say he has two eyes, a nose, two ears and a mouth.
Some say he is charming; others say his charms are leaving him, heading south.
But one thing that is known for sure.
Is the creature that lives on the moon is a frightful old boor.
He has no words, no small talk, chitter chatter.
He doesn’t pass the time with a friendly natter.
He slinks and slithers.
He glides and shivers.
A snake, I hear you cry but “no!”
This creature is not a snake, he's neither fast nor slow.
He lives on his own and seeks no crowds.
He shouts at you “turn the music down”, if it gets too loud.
Some say he's a dinosaur, one hundred years old.
Some say he's a young un with a heart of gold.
The creature that lives on the moon, is happy being one of a kind.
He's happy being himself and has no desire to be refined.
The creature that lives on the moon, is happy in his own skin.
Makes no difference to the creature, if he has no known kith or kin.
The creature that lives on the moon, makes no judgement of what you wear.
Makes no judgement of how you choose to style your hair.
That is why the creature that lives on the moon is welcome to attend his neighbour’s parties.
That is why they welcome him with arms open wide,  wholeheartedly.
The creature that lives on the moon is pleasant to them all, but he has no desire to be the star of the ball.
By preference, the creature sits alone in his chair, he does not speak, he does not stare.
He just enjoys the moment, living without a care.
He has no shackles; he is not bound.
The creature is content living life in his crater, he has no wish to be found.
The view he has before him of the planet below is a glorious sight.
A sight that waxes and wanes with the season, sometimes he is in the shade, sometimes eclipsed by the light.
A sight he adores and is grateful for.
A sight he is happy to be considered a “frightful old boor”.
When you see the moon in the sky at night.
Look for the creature, who lives in a crater, sometimes in shade and sometimes in light.
Give him a wave and say a prayer thankful he continues watching over the planet below from sunset to sunrise; from the time your head hits the pillow until the time you open your eyes.

Sweet dreams.

©Jacqueline Mead 2020
Dove off the deep river
it has been a long while now.
Chirping eerily beautiful
anthem of evening the bird flock                          
back to the nests picked their ways
Still, I am in apparently shallow desert.

Nope, I am not lost counting
the low hanging stars but
no longer feeling lonely in the desert.
The moon over the dunes draws closer
I happened to witness then like the star
for heaven, why no one needs a ladder!
The Stars envy the Moon
To her face they smile, they coo
But when she turns the other way
And darkness takes her place
Stars weep for themselves anew

The majesty, the flirtation,
The pure and devout adoration
Timelessly given to her
Yet in the Moon nothing spurs
Stars burn in their frustration

She is too cold to the touch
To deserve idolizing so much
Even blocking out the Sun
The Moon's admirers cheer on
To new resolve Stars quickly clutch

The Stars envy the Moon
Simple and still she brings swoons
The Moon is all their poetry
Their art too, so nobly
Stars know what they must do

They are too far and too small
Only regarded as beauty when they fall
From my drafts.
I was a moon and I envied the stars, but shooting stars the most.
Because for a moment, they look like the sun.
And everyone loved the sun. That’s why I wanted to be one so bad.
What I didn’t realize was that you loved the night more than the day. You loved things that glowed through the brightness of another.
You only ever looked at the moon. Not the stars and not the sun.
You weren’t like everybody else. It was the moon you loved.
And with that, I’ve never been happier to be a moon.
To be your moon.
I never knew what moonlight felt like till the night I held you in my arms.
Clueless, Restless, but then the Moon Speaks!


can you see clouds at night, askes the moon,
my train, my assemblage of word worshippers,
who ask me by the thousand for clearer answers,
“one if by day, two if by night” is my evere’d reply,
bereft of confidences, steps unsteadied, full of distemper,
shaky uncertain, so answer all, once more, but only with
difficulty am I understood, for the simplicity so so great!

the moon comes to you nightly, never! never are you ignored,
your lost alone words always well heard, we are two together,
we are all
two, if by night, my lune bright, ours, your answer!

Together Nightly, Are We Not Poets of the Way?
Ayesha 1d
You
Like an unborn moon,
You're always there. Even when
we can't see You shine.

But then, even if we could, would not our vulnerable beings burn to cinders at the sight of Your eternal beauty?
Spooks 1d
Love is a dangerous game
That I don’t know how to play
Sometimes I wish you never came
Sometimes than I think I’d be okay
You have the sun In your eyes
And i the moon
Too bad you spill nothing but lies
Maybe I just let you in too soon
For you are the sun
And I am the moon
Wyatt 1d
It just dawned on me,
I’m just like the moon
always retreating
once the light arrives.
The moon always follows the dark.
Zywa 2d
A full moon today,

I won't go to sleep for hours –


I will look at you.
Collection "Moons"
Color 2d
the wise old sun sighs
as the pretentious moon laughs,
dances with the stars.
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