LETS GO TO THE MOON

Round about Thanksgiving, when the trees are coloured bright,
Our family gather together and go and see the colourful sight,
The best place to go to view are the lovely Hills of Caledon,
Where shrubs and trees are best, that’s where we’ve always gone.

The place we like the best where you can see for miles around,
Is the moon! Where nothing grows, just hard clay on the ground,
There are undulating miniature mountains, where children play,
Just erosion where the good soil has been all washed away.

We never knew it’s proper name, we just enjoyed the view,
When we first found it, there the visitors were very few,
Now the moon is covered with folks, they’ve found the place
That over the years has given us joy and put a smile on each face.

I often wonder how the land became so eroded and dead,
No trees or flowers, it seemed that vegetation has fled,
But whatever caused it and although it is a shame,
Now folks wander all over, I’m sure they are not to blame.

But from this misfortune or a strange whim of nature,
We have the moon to wander on and see the grandeur,
Come and join all the others who gaze at the view from there.
I am sure you will agree that there is true beauty everywhere.

M Ann Margetson © October 9, 2000