The Moon


The Moon

From the darkness of the night,

Out comes a light

From behind clouds grey and white,

A light that is bright;

Neither scorching, nor irritating,

Neither too bold, nor too cold:

It’s helpful by nature,

Popping by and by from the curtain of clouds,

As though playing hide and seek;

Time runs, and he is half,

He is quarter, and he disappears:

Only to shine back to life again,

Tricking us from time to time;

He runs around the Earth,

Never tiring, never complaining,

With an everlasting pool of energy,

The Moon – he keeps running,

An everlasting journey, through the days,

Through the nights, in a daze.


This was my first poem….written when I was in IXth standard….though I do not know what made me write this…



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