The night you were born,
I held you tight in my arms
Drawing the Moon
By Edward S. Gault
You came up to me
With your little red book
The one you put the stickers in,
And a crayon.
You told me that
You wanted me
To draw the moon.
So I drew a line for the horizon,
Long vertical lines became trees.
A river flowed down through them.
Then I drew stars.
Finally, I drew the moon,
And filled in the sky dark blue.
Because you wanted to see me draw,
And there would come a time
When you will not care what I can do.
One Single Impression: Gift