My Crescent Moon
She believes she came from the dark side
Never realizing she descended from the stars
More stunning than the rings of Saturn
She radiates a love as red as Mars
I admire her imperfect little craters
Loving every phase unless she’s blue
She will forever be my crescent moon
Longing to be new
My beautiful Poetry Whisperer was feeling a little down during our conversation on Friday. Hopefully, this Saturday morning surprise will lift her spirits.
(Yes, baby, I left the five o’clock shadow for you).