Sometimes I watch the moon at night,
No matter be she near or far;
Up high, or in a leafy tree
Caught laughing like a bigger star.
Tonight the west is full of clouds;
The east is full of stars that fly
Into the cloud’s dark foliage,
And the moon will follow by and by.
I see a dark brown shabby cloud –
The moon has gone behind its back;
I looked to see her turn it white –
She turned it to a lovely black.
A lovely cloud, a jet-black cloud;
It shines with such a glorious light,
That I am glad with all my heart
She turned it black instead of white.
W. H. Davies