To a child the Moon is but, a beautiful white ball
A perfect round, in a dark starry night
He feels its watching over, singing a lullaby in rhythm
To the young lovers the Moon is, an enchanting hope
A metaphor of a girl, reflecting the light of her love
They dream of one-day, being as immortal together
To most grown-ups the Moon is, a lofty study
Its changing shapes, and the days it won't shine
They plan on reaching it, then breathing and living on it
To those old the Moon is, a great relief
Unchanging and nostalgic, midst much-changed life behind
They wish to just see it, re-live in its light
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