A taste of the moon I wander in a crescent lake, and massage the wrinkles of a full moon. I wish I were a white snake, slithering in the yellow shaded lagoon. I wish I were a milk shake, dripping onto the lake in a mellow tune. Night turns the moon into an angel cake, and hands me a silver spoon. I scoop a spoonful of the lake, and taste a mouthful of prune. 算是補上一首詩給中秋節 |