The Silver Orb

I stretched out my arm and grasped the beautiful new moon,
but it slipped through my fingers like sand from the dune.
Shooting stars appeared like flaming arrows in the sky
which left sparkling trails, as they passed by.

The silver orb became hidden by a huge passing cloud;
moments later its brightness was shouting out loud.
The cloud moved aside leaving the moon in all its glory,
oh, how beautiful it is, this observer of history.

poem by Orlando Belo
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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