Late night - it’s quiet and dark outside.
My bedroom window is opened wide;
I see shades of black and blue,
And Mr. Moon trying to peep in through.
The night's mild breeze is moving the trees
Hindering Mr. Moon from gazing at me.
Worried and helpless he stays in the sky
Wondering if I would step out and say hi.
The stars, his friends are telling something;
The wise old owls are speaking up too!
They asked the wind to stop bumping;
The wind agreed and kindly withdrew;
Big tall trees are now so still.
The break of dawn will soon instill
Until then it’s Mr. Moon and me
Conversing wordless like telepathy.
I walk to the window as he calls my name,
The scene resembles a theatre frame.
"How are you doing love?" he asked.
Like a fairy-tale the night has passed.
-Blossom Concelia William
