Lost Chance Poem by Marilyn Shepperson

It's not that late, but it is winter
And already dark outside
I wander out and looking up
Spy the first star of the evening
They say that star is magical
It can grant your hearts' desire
Any wish; it will be yours
Yet for what, should I wish
I can't help but wonder
I go inside to sit and ponder
Yet the list just keeps getting longer
Eventually I do make up my mind
And go outside to make my wish
But now the sky is full of starlight
Where now that first star of the night.