Destined Moon - a Fold
Blame it in the moon, she of waxing and waning,
Predestined through myriad phases,
All her life spent in shiftshaping,
All her wanders through continents,
Seemingly stationary, she of waxing and waning
Oceans and tides listen,
And farmer's worms digging,
Know how deep to penetrate,
In the job of soil airing,
And lovers too like to say,
Blame it on the moon, she of waxing and waning.
© gillena cox 2025
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