Surviving

Feeling the warmth of the sun on a cloudy day. A glimpse into a blind billy goat's unique, ever changing perspectives.

2016 04 17 Poetry: Mr. Moon April 17, 2016

One thing I used to love to do was sit and stare up at the moon. Different times of the month brought down a different view. New moon, crescent moon, half moon, last quarter and good old full moon. My favorite was the crescent moon, especially when you could hang a bucket on the bottom of it. I also used to love looking up at a full moon when there was a ring around it. It seemed to shine a little brighter than usual when that ring showed up. I remember as a kid, out sliding in the winter under a ful moon. It was like there was this huge flashlight hanging up in the sky. Pretty cool stuff I’d say.

I’ve always been amazed how something so big, so old, never veers from its track. It’s a constant that is always, well, constant.

Not many things in life are a constant, outside of love that is. What’s here one minute, can be completely gone the next. It’s just a never ending barrage of inconsistency, and there he is, my good old friend, Mr. Moon.

Thanks for dropping by, and if you get the chance, take a look up at the sky at a dear old friend.

Take good care and shine on.

dp

****

Mr. Moon!
A poem by DP Lyons

So there you sit, all big, round and fat.
Can’t you see that down here’s where it’s at?
I thought you’d have figured that out by now,
With that innocent look, and that one raised brow.

So all you do is just float there and spin?
Do you always have to wear that cheshire cat grin?
How’s about you throw me a slice of that cheese.
Ok, alright, I heard you. Umm, please?

You know, we could probably use a hand down here.
This rickety ride’s getting rougher to steer.
Our map is all faded, our compass is broke.
It seems that we’re always the butt of a joke.

It’s not quite the same as when I was a kid.
It seems we’ve gone into a wickedly skid.
Some folks will tell you how wonderful it is,
While others won’t jest, they’ll just give you the biz.

We work and we play while we laugh and we cry
We pray to the orb that just hangs in the sky.
And there you sit, with that sharp cheddar grin,
All covered in cheese, from your cheeks to your chin.

I suppose that by knowing you’re not far away,
That you’re there every moment of each waking day,
Will help us to open our eyes and see
The abundant beauty that’s amazingly free.

There’s so much that we overlook while we live,
As we teach what we’ve learned, while we learn how to give.
While you rest on your clouds, we fall back on the love,
Shining so bright with your beams from above.

Man in the moon, I bid you good night.
I wish you a restful, perpetual flight.
Give us a wink that will last us a while,
As you scatter your moon dust and throw us a smile.

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One Response to “2016 04 17 Poetry: Mr. Moon”

  1. alice13zoe Says:

    Deon–Thanks for a very clever “Mr. Moon.” I enjoy such playful poetry that is well-crafted with a little Wisconsin cheese. Take care–Alice


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