To him, the moon was a silver dollar spun Into the sky by some mysterious hand; the sun Was a gleaming golden coin, His to purloin; The freshly minted stars were dimes of delight Flung out upon the counter of the night. In yonder room he lies, With pennies on his eyes. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE VANITY OF THE WORLD by FRANCIS QUARLES FAST ANCHOR'D ETERNAL O LOVE! by WALT WHITMAN TO THE DEAD FAVOURITE OF LIU CH'E by DJUNA BARNES AUTUMN SOLILOQUY by ELSIE DINWIDDIE BARTLETT |