The Moon
By Robert Louis Stevenson

The moon has a face like the clock in the hall;
She shines on thieves on the garden wall,
On streets and fields and harbor quays,
And birdies asleep in the forks of trees.

The squalling cat and the squeaking mouse,
The howling dog by the door of the house,
The bat that lies in bed at noon,
All love to be out by the light of the moon.

But all of the things that belong to the day
Cuddle to sleep to be out of the way;
And flowers and children close their eyes
Till up in the morning the sun shall arise

Image : "Full moon rising, full moon dancing" - Hand dyed, hand felted, needle felted wool wall hanging from


Gaston Studio said…
I just love this simple poem by Stevenson! Thanks for the reminder.
Pyzahn said…
Lovely poem....but I LOVE that wall hanging. I can't believe it's felted wool. It looks like a painting. Tres cool, mon ami.
Rudee said…
Oh my. Where have I put my needle felting stuff? Oh. That's right-I don't have any. I think I need to fix that. I love all poems and stories about the moon, but that wall hanging paints such a lovely picture. Wow.
Alex the Girl said…
Ah, thanks ever so much for that one. Fits my current mood.
Rudee said…
You may be a yarn enabler Kathleen. I followed the link for the tapestry. Woe is me. Woe to my pocketbook.

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