The moon, the waves and the breeze

Their plain white faces looked up

as they watched the bulging moon,

while she sent down silver rays

that held them one by one.

And then the sea breeze saw

he started to whisper and sing,

playing strings of marram grass

that lives on the creamy dunes.

Then the moon began to relax

and when she moved her beams

to his vigorous serenade, soft

white puppets began to dance.

So the moon smiled and warmed,

light waves jumped and babbled

and swirled across ivory stones

'til she lifted them high on shore.

Now whenever the breeze is bored

he sweeps away velvet clouds.

If the full moon makes a curtain call

he sighs Madam, may we dance?

Mary Charman-Smith