super moon eclipse

If rare can be measured. 
You come around more than once in a lifetime. 
The last time you were here it was 1982. 
The next time it will be 2033. 
But I'm glad you did. 
You roused my night, heightened my emotions, made me realise that most people are selfish. 
Most. 
I look at my blue butterfly and the irony makes me smile. 
It represents freedom of the spirit, yet will never use my wrist as a launching pad. 
Trapped forever, thanking it's lucky stars that it's not real. 
If it could thank, or think.
So, Super Moon, so bright and so large. 
Will your power awake me from my slumber, and draw me to you by your invisible silken threads? 
Will I stand by my window and... excuse the pun... moon over you... till the sunlight slowly vanishes your pearl-like image from the waking sky? 
If waking can be measured in day and night. 
I may or may not see you again, the odds are even. 
But one thing's for sure. 
It will be a still and peaceful night, lit by your single environmentally friendly bulb. 
And for that we should all be very grateful. 

F x