This is Shirley's poem that won first prize in 'The Writing Magazine' Space Poetry competition, Feb 2008.

The Man in the Moon.

As a boy I laughed
At the face, in the round
Yellow night-light glow
That beamed through the window pane
And danced patterns on my pillow.
And I dreamed that one day we
Would meet, me and the man in the moon.

When I grew up, I became part of
The race. A carefully rehearsed plan,
We were there first.
In awe I bounced around the boulders
With eyes, picked dry dust from the nose,
And floated over craters of teeth.
There was not one sliver of silver
Or piece of green cheese in sight.

The race was won and we came home.

And now I lie here and gaze into space,
Wondering how I ever imagined a man’s face,
Or reflected on rhymes about jumping cows.
Not that it really matters to me now,
Here in this white walled room,
That reeks of boiled cabbage and beef.

Because I, who left footprints on the moon,
Am now being slowly eclipsed, with all this;
Someone is holding my dish and feeding me.
With a spoon.

Shirley Elmokadem Feb 2008

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