At 7 am
The moon still was there
Smiling at you—timid rising sun—
On the morning’s sky blue.
A greeting
As if she wanted
To guide you
Along these Autumn days
Of milder temperatures
And brave adventures.
Half an hour later
The moon discretely vanished
Behind white clouds
Letting them know
She’d love to come again
At night
For a serene dialogue
Of poets and their glow...
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Ingeborg von Finsterwalde/Waltraud I Mack
almost 5 yearsWhat would we do without the beautiful Moon and such lovely poetry? So enjoyable to read.