The man in the moon is awake tonight,
With his lamp on the casement sill,
With a pocket of beams to brighten the town,
Or the woods, where nightingales bill.
He waits all alone, ‘neath a million lit stars,
Till the clouds in the wind have fled,
Then takes from his crypt a bouquet of dreams,
To sprinkle the children, in bed.
He nods to the Sun, then Venus or Mars,
To the stars, he’ll leave well alone;
They are busy, he knows, fulfilling a wish,
Or guiding the sailors back home.
Then once every month, the man in the moon,
When the children are happy in play,
Will turn down his lamp on the casement sill,
Then sleep through the night and the day.
(copyright PRISM books 2009)
Meant to post on Monday gone but couldn't find where I had stored it!