The Moon's the North Wind's Cooky (What the little girl said)

When does the moon look like a cooky with a big bite out of it?

I wonder who eats the moon-scraps.

What the Little Girl said

The Moon's the North Wind's cooky.

He bites it, day by day,

Until there's but a rim of scraps

That crumble all away.

The South Wind is a baker.

He kneads clouds in his den,

And bakes a crisp new moon

that... greedy

North... Wind... eats... again!