Waxing, waning, rising, falling,
White or gold or red.
So close, so far, so out of reach,
Floating above my head.
Your borrowed light shines upon my face.
You always seem to know your place.
Moving smoothly and with grace.
Tides rise and fall at your command.
You are so gentle yet so grand.
You always seem to understand.
Every day I gaze at you.
Against a background black or blue.
Whether it’s morning, evening, night or noon.
I’ll never see the dark side of the moon.
Louie Elliott
