Poor Mr. Moon 🌚

As he sat muddled up from a wax to a wane

He was soaked to the skin as he wished that he was made of leather
 
Coz he couldn’t break free and was tied up to his tether 

He had lost his lustre as his eyes were tear stained

As it teemed and it poured and he strained as it rained

And his yesterdays yellow, looked all ruined and rusty

As the hurricane howled in a hooley, and the air was all dusty

Poor old Mr. Moon was blinded, he just could not see

As he shouted to the Gods up above… “HOW CAN THIS BE!!!”

But for forty days and forty nights, it rained and poured

As the Gods in the highest heavens totally ignored

Then just when Mr. Moon screamed to the sky..”ENOUGH IS ENOUGH!!”

He felt fed up of the storm that was making him feel rough

That big bright currant bun burst out amidst the sad, sorry sky

And shone down his warmth making everything dry

When the wind that was wild and the rain disappeared