As the sun dims, and the night begins.
The stars all alight, oh so bright.

The silver rays of the moon,
shine on the city with doom.

Yet, there is beauty in the orb,
which all creatures enjoy and absorb.

And while the town lies asleep,
dreaming dreams and counting sheep.

A shooting star would shimmer by,
making a scratch in the night sky.

And when the rooster crows to tell,
the sun is rising and the moon had fell.

The moon away, another day,
is beginning, the moon is dimming

~N. W. Ballew