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Analogue Of The Moon.


It is a half crescent.

It looks nascent.

It tends to be stringent.

It has a status regent.

 

It grows with pleasure.

It wanes in  measure.

It succumbs to pressure.

In  a lethargic leisure.

Indeed it is a  covetous treasure.

 

Every fortnight it grows in size.

Every other fortnight it demurely lies.

Its expansion has a phenomenal rise.

Its contraction has defeated ties.

Irresistbly  it has a fascinating prize.

 

It shines in the night.

Emitting a cool light.

Expressing no flight.

Empowering a rational plight.

Indeed it delivers a lovely sight.

 

 

Does it not exhibit an analogue?

Does it not record a dialogue?

Does it not appear as a prologue?

Does it not sound like an epilogue? 

Curiously it is not  in thetreasure, leisure, ressure, pleasure, sight, catalogue.