Moony-Eyed

Every night as I pass the hallowed gates of my workplace towards the sanctum of mine home, a chance glance reveals her highness- the moon.. satellite and all of course (with due respect for the science enthusiasts) but my love for her (i simply cannot condone the notion that it could be male.... :P) stems from her soft glow and comforting hue.. she's neither white- that means she's not a conformist or peace-lover who stands only by their ideals or believe the world can be perfect.. She' not off-white; which in turn indicates she does not condone laziness and untidiness either.. Not Grey for sure- she's not half-bad and that she comes out in the pitch dark- she's one gutsy dame.. Everyday she changes her shape- curves and all; her face is broken out at times and sometimes she veils herself in a cloud covering her moonbeams in the soft folds of mist..

Her glow is not harsh like the sun's, but is warm and comforting.. it won't protect you from the cold but at the same time it feeds your soul with sustenance that leaves you craving for beauty and its like.. It almost makes up for everything that went wrong during the day.. a break from the harsh climes and sunlight haze- a refreshing break in the hushed undertones of muted Sunshine.. she is like a beacon- a symbol of faith and hope in a charcoal sky.. a smooth marble chiseled as an everlasting signet of the brave and noble in whose realm doubt and despair are yet to be invoked.. As the moonbeams embrace the sleeping world in their simmering radiance of contentment and acceptance- of the darkness surrounding them, and yet shine through the shadows not with the fierce, hot-blooded glory that many epics hitherto stand testimony to; but instead reflect a softer state of bravery- of courage and finesse as two threads woven through the eye of a single needle- laminating a masterful tapestry lined with hope and threaded through grace- an evocation of the oft unnoticed brave deeds that we turn a blind eye, a deaf ear and a dumb tongue to...

And once in a while she has a bad day and refuses to come out at all... That's whats soo human about her... But the very next day, she realises her folly, finds it in her to overcome her pride and step out again for another night- roaming alone in dark lonely skies, espied by a mortal eye or two... suffusing the darkness with her trinkets and spools of moonbeams... never looking back but just onward and away till the muted colors of dawn drive her away... Into the misty nightlife eclipsing the other side of the world...

My heart's pledged to her... and none can take her place...