The Mystery of the Moon
by Mary Lou Rosato Caine
The mystery of the moon; he beckons me this night.
Round, and full, enchanting; there’s magic in his light.
I walk the streets in silence, I gaze upon his face.
Contemplate his power, influence and grace.
The stars shine bright in reverence, whenever he is near.
Like beacons of the night, easing all your fear.
It is said that strange things happen, whenever he’s around
Could this be a myth, simply to astound?