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The Moon, Sentinel of the night sky,
peers through the trees,
spraying its beams,
across the dark earth.
The Moon hangs high,
reflecting second hand Sun,
brightening the lives
of all who can see,
guarding the World
while we sleep.
A Comment by Loy
Nice poem, I always love the moon and now I have another reason.
A Comment by MFish
Ahh! Thank you for the nice comments.
