A Super Moon
The multitude of stars glow, sky unclouded.
Grey, though the ocean seems, it's midnight blue.
Sea smacks against the shore, beach not now crowded,
and oh, yon rising moon is breaking through.
The curlew calls, in warning of a storm,
long notes and mournful, to his foes subdue.
Black shadowed rock-pools, wait for day's reform.
Land will claim new life while reeling sea-gulls mew.
And waiting for the morning, hermit crabs retreat,
the search for palaces their focus takes.
Yellow moon lights up where land and ocean meet;
half the world sleeps while the other half wakes.
Moon, touching the horizon, seems immense.
Large, it appears, its orbit nearer creeps
and lunar academics gaze intense.
Low on the eastern skyline, daylight peeps.
Quote: Robert Browning.
Using all given phrases.
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