I search the skies for a silver ball
I scan the darkness for a light
And light I see, but in twinkling stars
Not in the sphere that shines at night
Seems the moon has gone for a sky trip
Days wear on and I look at a sinking Sun
And as a dark, white dotted blanket engulfs the sky
I spot a light – a crescent shimmering in the dark
Besides the clouds; hovering high
And as the moon enlarges
Night in and night out I observe
Until it becomes a perfect half
Of the moon, into which it will grow
On another night, it glares at me
With its craters that are its eyes
It seems very oval
And looks rather like a face on that night
Another night it smiles at me
It seems very chubby
It looks like a perfect round
And I wonder when it’ll go for its sky trip again