Amy Lowell

(9 February 1874 – 12 May 1925 / Boston, Massachusetts)

The Crescent Moon - Poem by Amy Lowell

Slipping softly through the sky
Little horned, happy moon,
Can you hear me up so high?
Will you come down soon?

On my nursery window-sill
Will you stay your steady flight?
And then float away with me
Through the summer night?

Brushing over tops of trees,
Playing hide and seek with stars,
Peeping up through shiny clouds
At Jupiter or Mars.

I shall fill my lap with roses
Gathered in the milky way,
All to carry home to mother.
Oh! what will she say!

Little rocking, sailing moon,
Do you hear me shout -- Ahoy!
Just a little nearer, moon,
To please a little boy.


Comments about The Crescent Moon by Amy Lowell

  • Gurleen Kaur Narang (7/7/2017 12:24:00 PM)


    Perfect rhyme I must say! .......well written (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: moon, summer, happy, mother, home, sky, night, star, rose, tree



Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003



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