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There's a waxing crescent moon tonight;
My grandson spied it first.
He pointed skyward with such glee
You'd think he'd been rehearsed.
Of course he didn't have the words
(He's nineteen months of age),
But show him once and sure enough,
His interest you'll engage.
He didn't know the waxing part
But many grown-ups, too,
If asked about the wax and wane
Won't have the slightest clue.
The moon suspended in the sky
Is really quite amazing
But unlike Henry, most folks never
Take the time for gazing.
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