“Eclipse”, by Philip S Davies.
In ’ninety-nine, at 11:11,
Was seen on earth a sign from heaven,
But August 11, to our dismay,
It proved a cloudy summer’s day.
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On Cornwall’s coast the Sun came by,
To warm the beach where bathers lie,
And just this once, as I can say,
Our circling Moon got in the way.
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That shining, dusty ball of grey,
By pure coincidence, they say,
A matching size looks to appear,
Beside our Sun, so far from here.
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Oblivious to our lines of sight
Ellipses run through endless night
Until a chance alignment rare
Displays a sight without compare.
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Ere break of dawn, in darkest night,
From friends, hotel or muddy campsite,
The tourists came to see the view:
A passing shade for a minute or two.
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The air was chilled, the darkness grew,
The sea-birds didn’t know what to do,
The people gasped, the crowds all cheered:
The Sun behind our Moon disappeared.
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The cameras flashed in fading light,
Our seaside view had turned to night,
All sunlight blocked at broadest day:
A sight to take our breath away.
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Then all at once the shadow passed,
Our chance to see this sight the last;
The headland, waterfront, beach and bay,
Restored too soon to light of day.
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But out in space, in courses true,
Earth, Moon and Sun had naught to do
But circle on, in orbits far,
As planet, satellite and star.
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