In the tranquil depths of night,
She rises with a mystic grace,
A beacon of ethereal light,
Adorning the velvet space.

Her silver beams through shadows glide,
A silent watcher of the earth,
In her glow, secrets reside,
Ancient tales and whispered mirth.

Veiled in mysteries profound,
Her phases mark the passage time,
From crescent slivers, tightly wound,
To full orb, in splendor's prime.

What secrets does her surface hold,
In craters deep and valleys wide?
A history in dust and gold,
Of cosmic dances, lunar tides.

She pulls the seas with gentle sway,
A silent force, unseen, yet known,
Guiding night and ruling day,
In her silent, silver throne.

The poets' muse, the dreamers' guide,
A symbol of the night's embrace,
In her light, our thoughts confide,
Finding solace in her face.

Yet, still she keeps her mystic charm,
A sphinx within the starry dome,
A beacon, neither cold nor warm,
In the vast celestial home.

So we gaze, with hearts entranced,
At the moon's enigmatic glow,
Drawn into her silent dance,
Where dreams and mysteries flow.
© Nidhi30