The argent-silver moon combs her hair
At the varnished clear lake mirror below;
Caught the poor sun in a snare
With her hair flowing in lavander glow.
Before dawn breaks, she goes to sleep
Behind the huge sky where colors cry;
When the sun shines with uninterrupted sweeps
Spears of light streak through the sky.
When evening comes, he goes to sleep
To dream again of her ashen face;
To rise again and with colors weep,
While she is asleep in her place.
Slowly his eyes are shut to sleep,
The stars rejoice & dance all night;
Showering silvery glitter for her to keep,
Heaven-trotting stars that make dark light.
The moon poses in her silver spotlight
For the sun to see her again;
Baring all her beauty in the moonlight,
She combs her hair with the rain.