The Rhythmic, Blue Cat

Poem Forty-Two ♬ - Sun and Moon

The moon said to the sun,
"Wouldn't we leave to go and have fun?"
But in response, the sun had to chide,
"No, my dear, for our hands are tied."

So the moon hopes to see the sun every morning,
To see the dawn of a new day, not the end, which is boring.
And the sun, he continues on his track,
Always wanting to catch a glimpse of the moon's back.

"What about now, Fire?"
The moon asks again, who's want was almost dire.
"Not now, Ice,"
Came the reply, ripped from an overstrung heart, clamped in a vice.

"When, my love?"
The moon calls again, sending thoughts through a dove.
The sun, just as heartbroken, sent the dove away.
"Only when the night is gone and the day goes away."

"That can't be right!"
The moon exclaimed into the night.
"It is, my darling,"
The sun replied, sent by a starling.

"My heart will always beat for you,"
The moon promised, her heart broken, too.
"I know; as mine will beat for your heart,"
The sun answered, his world close to shattering apart.

"May the silver light be yours,"
The moon called into the cold of night.
"May the golden light be always with you,"
The sun said, with little delight.

"Good night, Silver,"
Said the sun, seeing just a sliver.
"Good night, Gold,"
The sun, in return, had been told.

April 27, 2016