The moon


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1. The moon

I sit at my window looking out at the night.

I sit and I marvel the pale moon in my sight.

I look at the serene orb and I think of you,

I am wondering if you ever look up at it too

 

I remember that poem of the highway man,

of a ghostly galleon trekking the endless sky,

of a love thriving under the moon’s pale glow.

He died in the end, that won’t happen to you.

 

I know that no matter where you travel to,

whatever you do, you look at the same dark blue.

No matter how different the sky the colours the same,

I know if you look to the moon we are seeing the same.

 

I hope when you look to the sky and see the moon,

I hope when you watch it glow mystically, magically,

I hope that you think of me just as I think of you,

when I look up into that dark night sky.

 

When I look at the full moon in an inky black sky,

I almost feel you beside me your warmth on my arm.

The moon like a screen replays all the times,

you held onto me as I cried, or you helped when I fell.

 

I hope that this reaches you wherever you are,

and I hope you remember to look to the sky.

I hope you are safe and I hope you are thinking of me,

just as I am thinking of you.

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