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  <title>The Moon Poem</title>
  <description>The Moon by Robert Louis Stevenson &amp;amp;nbsp; &amp;amp;nbsp; Read by Richard Scott THE MOON has a face like the clock in the hall; &amp;amp;nbsp; She shines on thieves on the garden wall, &amp;amp;nbsp; On streets and fields and harbour quays, &amp;amp;nbsp; And birdies asleep in the forks of the trees. &amp;amp;nbsp; &amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;amp;nbsp; The squalling cat and the squeaking mouse, &amp;amp;nbsp; &amp;amp;nbsp; The howling dog by the door of the house, &amp;amp;nbsp; The bat that lies in bed at noon, &amp;amp;nbsp; All love to be out by the light of the moon. &amp;amp;nbsp; &amp;amp;nbsp;&amp;amp;nbsp; But all of the things that belong to the day &amp;amp;nbsp; Cuddle to sleep to be out of her way; &amp;amp;nbsp; And flowers and children close their eyes &amp;amp;nbsp; Till up in the morning the sun shall arise. &amp;amp;nbsp; &amp;amp;nbsp; &amp;amp;nbsp; And that was the moon, by Robert Louis Stevenson. I hoped you enjoyed that poem which conjures up the night time in some very visual verses. &amp;amp;nbsp; </description>
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