Poem for the day about the new moon in December

My heart always gives a leap when I catch a glimpse of the new moon, a sliver that appears shyly near the evening star. At this time of year the moon joins the decorations in the town, but the lights strung across the streets of the town only give pleasure to the people walking along. The moon is there for everyone.


My poem for the day is by Walter de la Mare, about the moon

Silver

Slowly, silently now the moon
Walks the night in her silver shoon,
this way, and that, she peers, and sees
Silver fruit upon silver trees;
One by one the casements catch
Her beams beneath the silvery thatch;
Couched in his kennel, like a log,
With paws of silver sleeps the dog;
From their shadowy cote the white breasts peep
Of doves in a silver-feathered sleep,
A harvest mouse goes scampering by,
With silver claws, and silver eye;
And moveless fish in the water gleam,
By silver reeds in a silver stream.

I see the moon and the moon sees me...