Mobile

Among the crafty things I own
A mobile's one I love,
Suspended from the ceiling,
Gently twirling from above.

A moon and stag are up on top,
Three pine trees hang below,
With stars, a heart, plus creatures
Of a type I do not know.

Their movement's imperceptible
At times, but with a breeze, 
They rotate in a manner which
Has never failed to please.

For mobiles shouldn't be confined
To galleries or cribs.
When this one caught my eye, I knew
That I would have first dibs.

And every time I catch it shift
I smile at its design,
Delighted that I made my move
To make that mobile mine.