the stars hang high in the sky tonight
the moon, barley waning hangs low.
and oh how they glimmer casting shadow shaped figures dancing upon the moons ebony face.
“oh i hope you’re happy” beams the moon to the sky
but her star does not hear dear moon as she calls.
for her light, almost gone, is far too dim to cut the night
and she longs for the nights when she was high above.
simply blissful with her star
but as the sun would early rise the star would surely find there to be a better suitor yet.
for how can a moon glow when a star is born to shine so very very high in the sky?