The Telling Tale

In the darkest doom,
The moon appears like a boom,
Shines like a diamond,
Up in the sky,
Glitters like a tile.

The kids are out,
Floors like their mat,
Ears are wide open,
To grab granpa's tales.

The dark is beautiful,
Only with granpa's voice,
Which sticks to memory,
That stays eternal.
The beauty of the dark.