THE moon seems like a docile sheep, She pastures while all people sleep; But sometimes, when she goes astray, She wanders all alone by day. Up in the clear blue morning air We are surprised to see her there, Grazing in her wooly white, Waiting the return of night. When dusk lets down the meadow bars She greets again her lambs, the stars! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...FRAGMENTS WRITTEN WHILE TRAVELING...A MIDWESTERN HEAT WAVE by JAMES GALVIN HIGH PLAINS RAG by JAMES GALVIN SQUIRE BOWLING GREEN by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THOUGHTS OF PHENA AT NEWS OF HER DEATH by THOMAS HARDY THE SONG OF HIAWATHA: HIAWATHA'S WOOING by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE PROUD MISS MACBRIDE; A LEGEND OF GOTHAM by JOHN GODFREY SAXE |