The Sun uncurled at the break of dawn On a mist-veiled, drowsy morn; He stretched his golden rays in a yawn Past the waking hills and beyond. From the corner of his amber eye He spied, at heaven’s edge on high, A silver maiden, hushed and pale, Drifting beneath a shimmering veil. The Sun spoke across the foggy gloom, Gallant in his customary boom: “I have not seen thee here till now — Fair shining one, who art thou?” A whisper was heard with a touch of fear: “I lingered longer than most nights here. In velvet dark I freely roam — I am the Moon; the night my home.” “I’ve heard of thee, sweet queen of night, Crowned by stars in sparkling light. Night is thy realm — yet day is mine; Why step beyond that fated line?” “Though stars abound, I wander lone at night, I’ve heard of thee — thy glory, warmth, and might. So I lingered for one brief glimpse of thee,” The Moon murmured soft, yet trembled free. The Sun flushed deep in crimson glow And leaned over the tree-line below: “Fair one, I’ll meet thee ere next dawn — The heat of day bids thee be gone.” With a smile upon her gentle face, The Moon drifted with silver grace, Beyond the hills and oceans blue, On cloud nine — at that promised rendezvous. “The Sun and Moon are planning a date,” The high-flying Falcon told his mate. “Soon none shall know of day or night — Oh, heavenly Fathers! Guard our plight.”