Sky Taylor, Moon Sailor – Read and Print

By Rachel Dunstan Muller, copyright 2021

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Some children don’t like bedtime much. But Skye Taylor? He loved everything about the night. He loved his comfortable pyjamas, and slipping between the sheets of his bed. He loved listening to the sounds of the night: owls hooting, frogs croaking, crickets chirping. But most of all – he loved staring up at the moon through his bedroom window.

Every night before he fell asleep, he would whisper: “Good night, Moon.” And every night, the moon would whisper back: “Good night, Skye Taylor.”

But one summer night as Skye lay in his bed, the moon said something else. It said, “Skye Taylor, would you like to sail with me?”

Skye Taylor sat up at once. “How would I do that?”

“Hold on tight, and I’ll show you,” said the moon.

So Skye Taylor held on tight, as the moon sent a shimmering moonbeam through the window and into Skye’s room. As the moonbeam reached Skye’s blankets, the whole bed began to glow. And then, as Skye watched in wonder, the bed turned into something entirely new. His sheets became bright sails, his mattress became a wooden deck, and the bed itself became a little ship, just big enough for one sailor.

“Ahoy there,” said the moon. “Are you ready to cast off?”

“Anchors away,” said Skye Taylor. And just like that, his little ship began to rise – up and up, through the air, out his window and into the great beyond. Higher and higher he soared, over his house, over the trees, into the night sky.

Far below he could see streetlights, and tiny cars with their headlights glowing, and a river, like a black ribbon, winding through town. As his ship kept sailing, he saw hills, and mountains, and then a great big sea.

“Looking shipshape,” said the moon. “Well done, Skye Taylor.”

“Aye, Aye!” said Skye.

Higher and higher the little ship soared, through the moon’s silverly light. It sailed so high that Skye could see the curve of the Earth beneath him.

“A little to starboard, now,” called the moon, “then it’s on to the Milky Way.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” said Skye Taylor.

The night was filled with stars, as the little ship sailed on. And when at last it reached the Milky Way, it was as if Skye were sailing through a river of diamonds. Everything around him sparkled and shimmered, and when he closed his eyes and listened, there was a soft humming sound, as if all the stars were singing.

On and on Skye’s brave ship sailed, with the moon leading the way. Until, at last it was time to turn back to Earth.

“Hard to port,” said the moon.

“To port it is,” said Skye Taylor.

The little ship reversed its course, then down and down it came through the silvery sky – over the sea, over mountains and hills, to a town with a winding river. Down and down the ship descended, like a feather carried on a breeze, until Skye could see tiny cars with their headlights glowing, and tiny houses with their porchlights on. Until, at last, he was beside his own bedroom window.

“Well done, Skye Taylor,” said the moon. “You can sail with me any time.”

“Thank you,” said Skye Taylor.

Then, even as the little ship was carrying him through the window, the bright sails became sheets again, and the wooden deck became a mattress, and the ship itself became a bed.

Skye Taylor lay down, with his head on the pillow, and his blankets pulled up to his chin. Then just before he closed his eyes, he whispered: “Good night, Moon.”

“Good night, Skye Taylor,” the moon whispered back.

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