A Frame of Beauty

I gaze upon the sky and come across stars.

The stars seem to decorate the background of darkness like a beautiful stipple painting.

 

I notice the moon.

She hangs in the night sky, sitting upon her throne,

The mother of the stars, she reigns.

She is so unreachable, yet she feels so close.

 

The darkness reveals her light.

She harnesses the opportunity and expresses her shining uniqueness.

 

The beautiful roundness of her silhouette is recognized, but taken for granted by the ignorant.

Open your eyes to her beauty.

Open your eyes to her wonder.

 

Phase by phase, she transforms her appearance,

With time, her facade changes,

However the wise know her true identity.

She is beautiful no matter what form she make take.

She is the moon: the mother of the stars and the queen of the night sky.

She never truly changes.

 

The moon lights up the night sky.

She is a lighthouse to the lost;

 

For centuries she has been, and for centuries she will be.

Her beauty is everlasting.

In her silhouette, may people now see:

In all her glory

A true frame of beauty.

This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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