When I woke up this morning,
I was sleeping on the moon.
Nestled in a shimmery half circle,
like the scoop of a spoon.
My legs dangle over the edge,
I don't know how I got here:
- A dream? Over the hedge? –
But somehow I've got no fear.

I am still in my pajamas,
midnight blue ones that blend
into the sky.
And all around me is quiet
nothing blinking but the stars
hiding from the winds' sigh.

I woke up this morning
sleeping on the moon.
The earth is so far,
with no return in sight,
So here I stay:
counting the stars.

A/N: I've always thought about sleeping on the moon. The cartoon-drawn type of moon that looks like a smile. Maybe this is just me. But it was a fun, almost peaceful, poem to write.