The Moon in Maine

In Maine The moon Shines down as if to say “I wish for you To forgive my friend, My brother, the sun, for it is true That he is a nuisance until the end However, He is truly one to comprehend During the summer, While he shines his heat Among all that wither Without his scorching feat. Meanwhile, On days when he knows not when to have a seat, I will smile Upon your fields, Shining my light for a while As you yield To the tenderness of sleep.” So I will shield Myself from the sun with white protective bile Knowing that the moon has sealed A covenant, which gives the vile Sun, from me, a sense of retreat, Knowing that if I wait just a little while I will be rewarded with a smile From the moon, her Beauty overlooking the tiles Of shrubs and all that wither. A break given to them, sent By the moon, hither This night, and all before untended, Soon Shall know the apologies of our friend The moon Who, in Maine, Knows her brother's tune And compensates in her name.