Drying their Wings
(Moon Poems for the Children/Fairy-tales for the Children) (What the Carpenter Said) The moon's a cottage with a door. Some folks can see it plain. Look, you may catch a glint of light, A sparkle through the pane, Showing the place is brighter still Within, though bright without. There, at a cosy open fire Strange babes are grouped about. The children of the wind and tide - The urchins of the sky, Drying their wings from storms and things So they again can fly.
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"(Moon Poems for the Children/Fairy-tales for the Children)..."
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