The Sandman comes pattering across the Bay:
His hair is silver,
His footstep soft.
The moon shines on his silver hair,
On his quick feet.
The Sandman comes searching across the Bay:
He goes to all the houses he knows
To put sand in little girls' eyes.
That is why I go to my sleepy bed,
And why the lake-gull leaves the moon alone.
There are no wings to moonlight any more,
Only the Sandman's hair.
The Champlain Sandman
Hilda Conkling
(1)
Poem topics: alone, soft, moonlight, moon, silver, hair, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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