The Moon Poem by Angela Wybrow

The moon hangs in the sky, shining so bright;
Everything below, enveloped in a silvery light.
Once darkened corners, are now subtlely lit,
As, silhouetted against the moon, bats now flit.

The moon appears early, on a winter’s afternoon;
Aware that the onset of darkness, will begin soon.
Occasionally, we get to witness a solar eclipse,
When the moon, in front of the sun’s face, slips.

The milky moon, reflected on the restless ocean,
Highlights the wild water’s never ending motion.
A silvery ribbon stretches from horizon to shore;
A mesmerising sight which, many people adore.

This celestial light is totally natural in its source:
Commanding tides, with a strong, gravitational force.
The moon waxes and wanes, from full to crescent:
Whatever form it takes, the view is always pleasant.

Everything in sight, is painted with a silvery splash,
As darkness and light, now mix together, and clash.
From the moon, there radiates a milky, white glow,
Which kisses everything, in its path, down below.

Illuminated by the sun, the moon appears to shine;
But this is all down to its make-up and clever design.
The moon is highlighted against the black, velvet sky,
And will still be hanging there, years after we all die.