A New View of the Moon by Eva Lovett Carson

A New View of the Moon

A little boy just two years old,
Or maybe two months older,
Came riding home across the lot,
Perched on his father’s shoulder.

“Look, Oswald! Hold your head up straight!
(Do stop that dreadful drumming!)
See, just above where Mamma stands
A little moon is coming!”

The baby lifts his round blue eyes;
The moon laughs at their glancing.
To see the wonder of his gaze
‘Most sets the moon a-dancing.

Frowning, he solved the problem soon;
Indignantly he spoke it:
“Papa, dat’s not the big wound moon;
I fink somebody b’oke it!”