of the moon

Behold the moon, celestial muse on high,

A silver orb that graces midnight's sky.

In lunar glow, its beauty softly gleams,

Inspiring poets with enchanting dreams.

Oh, radiant orb, thy gentle, soothing light,

Illuminates the darkness of the night.

A beacon of hope in shadows deep,

A tender kiss upon the world's asleep.

As Luna weaves her silver-lit array,

She whispers secrets to the Milky Way.

A silent language, understood by few,

Conveyed through beams of iridescent hue.

She casts her spell on lovers, near and far,

Drawing them close beneath her guiding star.

Romantic souls, beneath her tranquil gaze,

Find solace in her ever-watching blaze.

And when the moon is full, in all her might,

She paints the world in monochrome delight.

A canvas vast, where dreams and fantasies,

Take flight upon her luminescent seas.

But even in her waning, crescent phase,

She holds a mystic charm that never fades.

A silver sliver in the vast expanse,

A symbol of celestial, timeless dance.

So let us raise our eyes to lunar art,

And let its poetry fill every heart.

For in the moon's embrace, we find our kin,

And endless inspiration from within.