Night reflections
I met a man named Moon,
His eyes were crooked craters
Silver tear-tracks streaked across his tired face.
His midnight-black secrets were reflected away
by the surrounding stars
Which shrouded his spiky temper.
Night reflections
I met a man named Moon,
His eyes were crooked craters
Silver tear-tracks streaked across his tired face.
His midnight-black secrets were reflected away
by the surrounding stars
Which shrouded his spiky temper.
Here is an anthology of poetry Willow Class at Stone with Woodford created on book creator after session one of term 3
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