The Moon was but a Chin of Gold A Night or two ago – And now she turns Her perfect Face Upon the World below – Her Forehead is of Amplest Blonde – Her Cheek – a Beryl hewn – Her Eye unto the Summer Dew The likest I have known – Her Lips of Amber never part – But what must be the smile Upon Her Friend she could confer Were such Her Silver Will – And what a privilege to be But the remotest Star – For Certainty She take Her Way Beside Your Palace Door – Her Bonnet is the Firmament – The Universe – Her Shoe – The Stars – the Trinkets at Her Belt – Her Dimities – of Blue – Emily Dickinson — “The Moon Was But a Chin of Gold” https://www.shampoopoetry.com/poems-about-the-moon/  |  Contemporary Poetry Links: Hair:  Truth Hair Jewelry:  Venge/Vengeful Threads Head:  Catwa Clothing:  Envious