Moon-Ship
As lovely as those stately craft which once would slide
Across vast, then-uncharted seas, so you can glide
Upon the star-flecked unprospected firmament.
This very night I watched you as you gently spent
An age-long, idle, argent hour in pallid peace.
(It was, for me, today’s first moment of real ease).
Yet often I have seen you scud before a storm,
Dashing through wild cloud-spray and almost overborne
Onto dark-jagged cloud-rocks that soon would disignite
Your soothing solar-lantern’s pale reflected light
Should mischance supervene.
But rather, far, would I
Prefer to see you, tranquil, float along the sky
In beatific calm; a silent, silver ship
In a jet ocean set. So let your anchor slip
And smoothly make your way – as once those stately craft
Homewards returned at last, with every shrouded mast
Crowded with sails set wide to catch the lightest breeze –
Over a cloudless night’s untroubled cosmic seas.
