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Short Poems About The Moon
- “Silent and serene, The moon beams down on me, Guiding me through the night, As bright as can be.”
- “A glowing orb in the sky, The moon shines so bright, A constant companion, Through the darkest of nights.”
- “The moon, a faithful friend, Illuminates the way, Guiding us through the darkness, Night after night, day after day.”
- “A shining beacon in the sky, The moon guides us through the night, A constant presence, always there, Guiding us with its gentle light.”
- “In the quiet of the night, The moon shines so bright, A faithful companion, Guiding us through the darkness, Toward the morning light.”
Long Poems About The Moon
- “The Moon” by Edgar Allan Poe
The moon, the moon, the moon Hangs up in the sky, A bone-white bone-house, In which the night-light lies; A skull-faced lantern, That grins so ghastly bright, It scares the stars to silence, And makes the mountains tight.
The moon, the moon, the moon Is a ghostly galleon, Tossed upon cloudy seas, The winds of heaven steer; Her mast a silver cross, Her sails the swan’s down cast, She glides along the sky, And leaves the world aghast.
The moon, the moon, the moon Is a lady-lantern tall, That walks the heaven’s high road, And sees the worlds through all; A fairy ship, that flits Across the drowsy main, And leaves a dreamy wake, On the wakeful world’s wide wane.
- “The Moon” by Sappho
The moon has set, and the Pleiades; It is midnight, the time is going by, And I sleep alone. All around the house The blowing roses of the wind fall, And the stars are flashing.
And I think, “Who is this that sleeps alone?” I think, “Who are these that sleep alone?” But now, as the dawn starts to grow, I go to the door, and I open it, I go out and I stand, I lift up my head, and I lift up my arms, And the dew on my arms and my head is cold.
- “The Moon” by R.S. Thomas
The moon is high, a white lantern Swinging above the earth’s dark trees, And in the fields the rabbits Sit and watch it, as if to see Something they have forgotten Return to them across the air.
All the while it is growing, Silent and serene, Till it fills the sky Like a great balloon, Then slowly wanes, Leaving the rabbits To their watchfulness again.
But what is it they wait for? Something they have forgotten, Something that has not yet happened To them or to the world.
And so they sit, Ears pricked, Watching the moon.
