O most noble orb smiling upon the night
Nobly colored as infants’ milk
Aglow as soft as silk
A gentle reminder in the sky
Accompanying all who cry
Solace in moments of pain or fright.
What the Sun is to lovely favorable times
You are to dread, dolor, and woe
And as man’s pains so sadly grow
Through merciless moods and clashing climes.
As substance must, to shadow, be
The sun is daytime’s image of thee.
I’ve been trying to improve me ability to write poetry.
Somehow I accidentally wrote specifically about the moon, but considering that I referred to its connection to the night, I should hope it’s allowed. This is also..as far as I can remember..me very first ever attempt at writing an ode.