That's a full moon behind all those trees up there. Quiet and spooky. And of course the moon is always BITCH. A moon poem.
THE MOON'S THE NORTH WIND'S COOKIE by Vachel Lindsay
What the little girl said
The Moon's the North Wind's cookie,
He bites it day by day,
Until there's but a rim of scraps
That crumble all away.
The South Wind is a baker
He kneads clouds in his den,
And bakes a crisp new moon that...greedy
North....Wind....eats....again!
SILVER by Walter De La Mare
Slowly, silently, now the moon
Walks the night in her silver shoon;
This way, and that, she peers, and sees
Silver fruit upon silver trees;
One by one the casements catch
Her beams beneath the silver thatch;
Couched in his kennel, like a log,
With paws of silver sleeps the dog;
From their shadowy cote the white breasts peep
Of doves in a silver-feathered sleep;
A harvest mouse goes scampering by,
With silver claws, and silver eye;
And moveless fish in the water gleam,
By silver reeds in a silver stream.
