Mrs. Moon

...can't sleep last night and fell in with myself outside in the wee hours of the morning looking for something worth blipping. The moon was in it's full phase giving me enough light for my blip projects. But as I ran through my pictures this morning, I realized that nothing is much worth blipping than Mrs. Moon herself.


As I lay awake in the white moon light,
I heard a faint singing in the wood,
'Out of bed,
Sleepyhead,
Put your white foot now,
Here are we,
Neath the tree
Singing round the root now!'

I looked out of window, in the white moon light,
The trees were like snow in the wood--
'Come away,
Child, and play
Light with the gnomies;
In a mound,
Green and round,
That's where their home is.
Honey sweet,
Curds to eat,
Cream and frumenty,
Shells and beads,
Poppy seeds,
You shall have plenty.'

But soon as I stooped in the dim moon light
To put on my stocking and my shoes,
The sweet sweet singing died sadly away,
And the light of the morning peeped through:
Then instead of the gnomies there came a red robin
To sing of the buttercups and dew.

- Walter de la Mare