The sun's a prude: it turns its eye away
at night, and only looks on us by day
to see if we are doing what we should.
Yet how it blushes when it goes to bed
and also when it wakes up in the morning
despite it turns a blind eye to the rest!
The moon is not so moral: she looks on
at night - sometimes - to see what we are up to,
and has been known to have affairs with such
young blades as wander nakedly from hill
to hill, in that most ill-advised and carefree way
so typical of antique adolescence …
Mind you, the sun can make mistakes as well,
as when it paired with Memory to breed
the Muses, who have kept watch ever since.
But, generally, it turns a blind eye to
our goings-on, and, only when we're quite
respectable, will it come out and play.
John H.B. Martin is a poet who lives in London, England. He is a graduate of London University and Australia National University and has been writing for many decades. He has written four novels and is working on a fifth. His magnum opus is a six-volume epic poem. Most of his work is yet to be published.