The outlook wasnt initially
Brilliant on the onset of that
winter night, and the owls' hoots
Made honest reflections
of the cruel cold.

//But out from opaque clouds
the moon illuminated her sister globe
with a sliver of her lighted half.//

For when night despair brings,
When deep under the water
hidden melancholy breams dream,
The moon will never beam
without bringing me dreams.

My mind prickled me with half-witted
ponder,and I thought,

"What does the sun make of the moon?"

Dreams come true my friend,
And some are miracles that cease
to exist but ridicule deep
Underneath itchy sculps at ease.

Then, up, North of the galaxy
The sun always thought highly
Of the sedated crescent moon.

- 'When the stars rise,
I will pale her bright eyes
And so, thru all the night-tides,
I will lie down by her side.
Tight I'll hold her as mine,
Thru all the winter nights

They won't believe I've shacked
up with someone so goodlooking.'

His desire was to work nonstop
his entire life, to work so hard he never
had to breath to keep the moon smiling

Nevertheless, even in purnima and
Unquestionable earthshine the moon
She was a terrible loner.
The sun troke her as a generous monk,
Her poor fantasy was to keep at distance
and let heaven witness
a monk and monachos wedding.

All her reflections she'd put aside
In silent contemplations she dased
In front of all eyes in shiver fright
She stood emotionally strong,
but glowing lasers never hid..

She persisted.

© amtupu_