The moon, my friends,
Is a constant lie.
Look at it this way
It tells you every night
A different story.
It makes you believe
It’s your friend
That it will be there
For you but sometimes
It does not bother
To even show its face
Such a fiend it turns to be!
Only fools and poets
Listen and see its magic .
For truly it is bewitching
How many of you
Have ever walked
Under the silver glow
Of a full moon?
Have you noticed how soft
It has turned your shadow?
How deep above your head
Is the tree canopy?
How it imbues with a halo
All it touches?
The world becomes softer
Losing its sharpness
Becomes fuzzy
Forces you to reassess
Your perception of the mundane .
Its power is enchanting
Charming, otherworldly
It’s in a perpetual state of flux
The moon, my friends,
Is a constant lie.
Lucette C. Bailliet
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