Blue Moon

Well tonight is a blue moon! An once upon a time kind of time.  Do you know that no matter how much I search I cannot find a poem on the blue moon! All other kinds of moons, sure. But not a blue moon in sight. Weird. But I think this poem by Emily Dickinson perfectly articulates the moon's beauty and mystery, and well, that last line suits me fine.

(Ps/ The formatting here has gone a bit awry - apologies - must be a Blue Moon kink in the Blogger software...!)

 

The Moon - Emily Dickinson

The moon was but a chin of gold
A night or two ago,
And now she turns her perfect face
Upon the world below.
Her forehead is of amplest blond;
Her cheek like beryl stone;
Her eye unto the summer dew
The likest I have known.
Her lips of amber never part;
But what must be the smile
Upon her friend she could bestow
Were such her silver will!
And what a privilege to be
But the remotest star!
For certainly her way might pass
Beside your twinkling door.
Her bonnet is the firmament,
The universe her shoe,
The stars the trinkets at her belt,
Her dimities of blue.