Poem Hunter
The Moon
ME (05/31/1962 / NJ)

The Moon

High in the sky a yellow ball glows brilliantly.
One could think it is a balloon.
But it’s only the moon.

The world is alive even in its darkest hours of the day.
The stars and the moon show us
the way for evening life.
While many may sleep, others try to survive.

Foxes, raccoons, possums, and wolves come
out and jump around.
The world is safe for them to go about their tasks.
There are so many places for them to track.

Trees, bushes, broken branches,
all hide clues for helpless prey.
The moonlight intensifies
the eyes of the hungry beast.
So cries the prey of the hunters keep.

This floating yellow ball, so called the moon,
has a force all its own.
A weary world prepares to sleep.
One prays that tomorrow will soon be here.

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Comments (1)

good thghts abt the moon..ur imagination is beautiful dear...take care