As I stood outside, the gentle cool breeze sent goose-bumps up my arms, making hair rise on the back of my neck, a sweet-spot for him, he knew it would force me to look up...I couldn't help notice the Moon and how colossal he was in his immense opulent sky. He kept giving chase through the trees, surely the braggart he was, he enjoyed showing me just how brilliant his light could unfailingly be...
...as a child (3 yrs old) I truly believed and loved the idea that the Moon was in love with me. I'd get up out of bed, even risking a spanking, just to see him there gazing upon me. He was always peaking out from the corners of trees, buildings and from behind clouds, so shy but so grand and exquisite all lonely up in his sky. I would imagine he'd whisper to the stars his delight with how his light could make my skin glow. How powerful he must be to be so far away and yet still able to delicately touch my skin.
My secret love affair with the Moon has only blossomed and evolved as I've become a woman. Forever busy, but never, not once forgetting his devotion to me. I cherish the nights that he is full and bloated with his love and passion for me, beckoning for me in his tremendous sky. Only he could understand me, for how unique he was - so lonely, always wanting, always searching for someone like him. My obsession for him, my Moon coerced me to learn of his friends - the stars and planets, to become educated in his movement, to observe him affecting the tides and water.
The stars and sky would thank him, twinkling in his generous light. How everyone around him would bask in his glory while he'd radiate so magnificently in his sky. Once a year he would be called the Harvest Moon, when he got as close as he could to us (to me) and all those that I love. And every now and then he'd get to gleam and shimmer in a blue haze, the Blue Moon.
I wonder if he knows how many songs would be sang in his honor? Or will he ever know how many movies would give praise to his light? How many people would continue to fall in love, in the wake of his illustrious glow? Children will forever celebrate the light in the dark that he's become. How his golden glare would be a light for sailors and those that had lost their way. He would also be menaced and browbeaten with folklore and tales of crazy people unable to control themselves, save for the full moon.
It has always been this way, and it will probably always be this way. But...make no mistake...
...he will always be My Moon.
...as a child (3 yrs old) I truly believed and loved the idea that the Moon was in love with me. I'd get up out of bed, even risking a spanking, just to see him there gazing upon me. He was always peaking out from the corners of trees, buildings and from behind clouds, so shy but so grand and exquisite all lonely up in his sky. I would imagine he'd whisper to the stars his delight with how his light could make my skin glow. How powerful he must be to be so far away and yet still able to delicately touch my skin.
My secret love affair with the Moon has only blossomed and evolved as I've become a woman. Forever busy, but never, not once forgetting his devotion to me. I cherish the nights that he is full and bloated with his love and passion for me, beckoning for me in his tremendous sky. Only he could understand me, for how unique he was - so lonely, always wanting, always searching for someone like him. My obsession for him, my Moon coerced me to learn of his friends - the stars and planets, to become educated in his movement, to observe him affecting the tides and water.
The stars and sky would thank him, twinkling in his generous light. How everyone around him would bask in his glory while he'd radiate so magnificently in his sky. Once a year he would be called the Harvest Moon, when he got as close as he could to us (to me) and all those that I love. And every now and then he'd get to gleam and shimmer in a blue haze, the Blue Moon.
I wonder if he knows how many songs would be sang in his honor? Or will he ever know how many movies would give praise to his light? How many people would continue to fall in love, in the wake of his illustrious glow? Children will forever celebrate the light in the dark that he's become. How his golden glare would be a light for sailors and those that had lost their way. He would also be menaced and browbeaten with folklore and tales of crazy people unable to control themselves, save for the full moon.
It has always been this way, and it will probably always be this way. But...make no mistake...
...he will always be My Moon.
The moon is very lucky, to have a romance with such a beautiful woman!
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