My salad dressing days

The man in the moon
September 16, 2005, 9:06 am
Filed under: Uncategorized

The man in the moon made love to the sea,
And he breathed his love to the midnight air,
And he whispered, ‘Dear one, lovest thou me?’
As he stooped to kiss her seaweed hair.

Ah, she knew not then that his heart was cold,
And her bosom heaved with a happy sigh,
‘I have loved you dear, with a love untold,
That will not change and cannot die.’

Then the man in the moon was up and away,
And off to the sky with a mocking shout;
But the faithful sea from that dreary day
Has followed him sighing the world about.

Anna Wickham (aged 16), 1884 – 1947


8 Comments so far
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Till one night the sea in a fitful rage
Did storm at the moon for his love of late.
When the moon rose, as he had for all age,
She licked at his edge with her waves of hate.

The moon was moved in his circular sphere
And his music echoed her roused heartache.
Now, wishing for heavens his love was near,
He weeps and wanes for his mocking mistake.

Comment by Mark

there was a young man from bengal
who went to a fancy dress ball
he thought he would risk it
and go as a biscuit
but a dog ate him up in the hall



Comment by surly girl

She wasn’t 16, she was 63.

Comment by Who is this Dave?

um, maybe she was sixteen when she wrote it?

you vicars.

Comment by surly girl

yes, she was 16 when she wrote it

SG: like the limerick!

Comment by Urban Chick

Dave knows that. It’s what passes for humour in the sticks.

Comment by Fatima Madrigal-Crooner

egad, I wish I had done something important when I was 16. Some people are amazing eh?


Comment by Kyahgirl

Tell me about it. Elliott Smith had made five solo albums *and* stabbed himself to death by the time he was my age. Michael Ventris had deciphered Linear B and fatally driven his car into the back of a lorry by the time he was my age too. As my 35th birthday approaches, these two benchmarks are becoming daily more depressing. Gah.

Comment by patroclus

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