The moon was married last night
and nobody saw,
dressed up in her ghostly dress
for the summer ball.
The stars shimmied in the sky
and danced a whirligig;
the moon vowed to be true
and lit up the corn rigs.
She kissed the dark lips of the sky
above the summer house,
she in her pale white dress
swooned across the vast sky.
The moon was married last night,
the beautiful belle of the ball,
and nobody saw her at all –
except a small girl in a navy dress
who witnessed it all.
