Three poems about the Moon

Through the glass of my living room,
morning looks like night.
Hanging in all it’s fullness: moon
I bow to it’s awesome light.
Has anything more reassuring and balanced
made a home in the sky?
Sun is too cheerful,
clouds are too moody.

So, no. Not to my discerning eye.

It’s quite vital, the moon, you know
If only you look (and trust)
You’ll see that it keeps the world in check
With a magical silvery dust.

The moon and I have a special bond
Invisibly linked, my twin from beyond
Introspective, but likes to be seen
Gazed at, admired, pearly and clean
A face that shape shifts
Quite predictably
I see you, moon
Do you see me?

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