The Moon
Lady Luna riding her bright coracle
between soft islands of the fluffy clouds
in chartless voyage by their lighted coasts...
And while the greater spheres a graver music
make, unfolding complex harmonies, scarce
heard by mortal ears, the lowly moon
A homely measure sings, her treble voice
more fitted to our confined world, confirming
our warm coziness within this concert-room
Of earth, untroubled by the cosmos, wide,
so other; that appalling ocean stretching
deep and black beyond our door of air.
~ Stanley ~
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