23/04/2021
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29/04/2021
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I have always wanted to be nocturnal,
To Live by the light of the moon.
There’s something about the stars – they’re eternal.
I pray the sun sets soon.
I’m a spinning, winning, tripping, zipping, super-sonic ice queen:
See my moon zoom, clock my rocket, watch me splutter tricksy space-steam.
Now we're up on the edge
and over, on the mountain
with mountains beyond. Behind us,
in the dark
of the valley, villages are embers
I’m looking up into the sky
And I am thinking, how can it be this big?
Why is there so much of it?
How do we all fit?
I am thinking all these things
Now the day is over,you're lying in your bedand cares are spinning endlesslyaround your weary head.Remember that the moon you seeis also shining down on me.
Moon is
silver silver.
clipped cup
from which to sip
a first drop
of freshly-pressed
moon juice.
There is a place (believe me,
she said) where if, if
you go beyond
the street lights, to the lane's end,
In need of some repair,
six point seven billion
careless owners.
Lovely views of the galaxy,
possible renovation project.
Owners seek exchange
Twinkle, twinkle, little star
Scientists tell us what you are.
Hydrogen...and helium?
Oxygen and nitrogen...
The moon was married last nightand nobody saw,dressed up in her ghostly dressfor the summer ball.