Wonderful Moon

A hare and a fox in a field of soft dew
Sitting side by side bathed in the midnight hues.
They tilted their heads with a dreamy upward stare,
At the glowing moon hanging mysteriously in the air.

“Who put it there?” asked the brown hare, so small,
“Was it stitched from fine silk or shaped to fall?
Did giants perhaps hang it from a golden thread,
Or is it a billowing lantern for dreams instead?”

The young fox gave a nod, his eyes alight,
“It could be a pearl from the sea of ancient night.
Or perhaps,” he mused, with a thoughtful air,
“It’s a mirror the stars wanted to share.”

The wind blew softly through the whispering wheat,
And rustled the moss gently beneath their feet.
They sat a while in wonder, warm and still,
As moonlight flowed silently across the hill.

They didn’t find answers, not even a clue,
But sometimes wonder itself is truer than true.
And under the hush of that luminous tune,
They simply whispered, “what a wonderful moon.”

Proudly made in England