STARRY NIGHT:

That’s when the moon is out of sight –

Not stealing all the thunder –

(Though thunderclouds obscure them quite:

That statement was a blunder!)

For crowds of clouds mean stars are barred;

The Southern Cross gets crosser;

When on the scene not seen is hard,

And Mars is called a tosser

For also shining far too much

And stealing all the glory;

With Venus, Jupiter and such

It is the selfsame story;

The stars at night are big and bright

Deep in the heart of Texas,

By day to stomach them ain’t right –

That’s in the solar plexus!

One well may tell the stars by day,

If from a well one’s viewing,

Though if down wells you’d chanced to stray

You’d be too busy ruing!

So, Starry Night, though it seems trite,

Is what we still will aim for,

A down-well plight is just a blight,

And isn’t what we came for,

But starry nights are best by far

To do a spot of wooing,

For she will wish upon a star,

And can’t see what you’re doing!

© Colonialist September 2012 (WordPress)