Wayward Moon

Months have passed
And still no moon for my night
Though I understand
For though lustrous
The moon is jealous of me
His wish is for an ocean
An ocean like mine
His ocean is beautiful and blue
Much like mine; yet more inviting
His ocean is soothing indeed
Incomparable to the calm and grace of mine.
He boasts a loyal tide
A follower to his travel
If only I could share the notion
Of a tide that rolls by choice,
Never obligation.
He knows so,
Everything so; about his beloved ocean
Her abyss
Her treasures
Life
Oh, how I pity
For he cannot enjoy discovery
Quite as I can
Of your ocean, dear Moon
I am insignificant,
She slips through my fingers
And her touch is cold
I understand the jealousy
My friend.
I would be jealous, too.