Problems with the Moon

When the moon fell into our garden
it took an awful lot of my
pushing and shoving
and swearing from Dad
to get it back up in the sky.

First we all leaned shoulders to it
and pushed when Dad called ‘heave her’;
it wouldn’t move and Mum stepped back
suggesting we use a big lever.

So Dad got a plank from the garage
and I got one from the shed;
we tried them both, and the moonbeams rolled
right over Mum’s best flower bed.

‘Oh drat!’ said Mum in anger,
‘The blessed thing!’ said Dad,
the moon slipped onto his greenhouse
and the things he said then were pretty bad.;

Eventually our efforts succeeded
and, as Dad gave a mighty roar,
the moon shot up and outwards
and lodged in the sky once more.

Yes ‑ when the moon fell into our garden
it took an awful lot of my
pushing and shoving
and swearing from Dad
to get it back up in the sky.

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