In the quiet embrace of night’s gentle fold,
The moon rises, a sentinel in silver glow,
Whispering secrets untold in the cold,
Guiding lost dreams where shadows flow.

Her face reflects the stories of time,
A canvas of light in the vast, dark dome,
Each crater a memory, each phase a rhyme,
A celestial wanderer far from home.

She dances with stars, in a silent ballet,
Illuminating hidden paths with her glow,
A guardian of dreams in the night’s soft sway,
Where only the brave and the dreamers go.

In her light, the world finds its quiet peace,
A gentle pause from the day’s fierce stride,
In her presence, restless hearts find release,
As the moon’s tender whispers softly guide.