Like the Clove of an Orange

Rose on a night still young,
Like the clove of an orange,
That glowing half moon.
Come,
Let me raise you upon my shoulders
And very quietly on your tiptoes,
You steal it away
From the palm of the night.
Half you eat on your own
The rest, I’ll feed you myself.
I’ll raise upon my shoulders once again
Against the inky skies of the night
This innocent smiling face of yours.
The orange-clove like half moon too
Would then become a radiant full.