This won't work for you in the city; but try it on the beach at midnight;

or strolling down a country lane on a winter's evening.

(Make sure you are with someone special)

 

Out of this world

 

Over there it goes again, another shooting star.

A steak of light across the sky, how can I see so far?

A million specks of light I see, in the endless black above,

And as I stare in wonderment, a million more I view

 

Night-time, playground of the shooting stars.

A place that has no borders;

no boundaries and no lines to divide,

no marks to distinguish between man and man.

​

The stars, few at first, and only the faintest glimmer;

shyly show their faces. But as the nearest one - the Sun -

hides ever further behind the Earth,

one by one they appear, as the night grows dark.

​

So they become brighter, gleaming and glinting, sparkling and twinkling

as they dance their eternal waltz across the inky darkness of the night sky.

A shooting star briefly lights its way before extinguishing itself into the black sky.

And then another, briefly burning brighter than all the others.

​

But hold, for another heavenly body appears, shyly peeping.

From behind its hiding place, in a thin crescent of light we see The new moon.

 come back to us again , and we, remembering  those few nights it has been missing, rejoice in its reappearance.

​

As night follows night we see a transformation.

From shy introversion to blatant exhibitionism,

for as it grows, and when at last it shows its full face,

it proclaims itself as king of the night sky.

 

'Look at me' it beams, brighter than ever,

dwarfing in its brilliance all the other specks of light,

dismissing their millions as insignificant,

But its moment of glory is short lived.

​

Soon we see that something is eating it away.

Night by night it diminishes, its full globe but a memory,

until once more it becomes an ever fading crescent,

until, just as before, it is gone. 

 

 

 

​