Spectacle of the Dusk

The moon, a smokey rose,
bigger than life,
half plucked in the eastern sky.

Held the stare of both my eyes
before it shrank white and small
amongst the stars.


Contagious Nocturnal Friend

Slow is tired;
me, a cool festival
hanging limp
as a willow in the night,
you smile
like a moon favoring
one hemisphere
over the other
spraying the dark virgin air
aglow, suffused with blue
livening us, along with you,
celebrating in your over world
over, and over,
above a day,
thousands of miles
beneath our feet,
with sleep postponed
until the morn dawns
when insistent desires
fade, like children
worn with amusements;
curled flat and
heavy as lead,
with festive dreams
inside their head.

Lovescape in Dark

Midnight stars
infinite spray of light rests
reflective on my eye

The hope of youth
is fragrant
and sweet as Fennel
combed by wind
blowing through
the coastal canyons
near my beloved sea

I am fluorescent and luminous
tossed in a perpetual rhythm of waves
tumbling to no end,
and you are eternal
as the ever changing moon
pulling me where you will,
shining upon me this dark night.

Linked to Seedlingsinstone Blog Spot

Hanging Impromptu

The moon, near full, rose from the eastern horizon.
The sun set; transitioning
beams of it’s remnant light
upon me by way of lunar lamp
which now dangles above
in the spacious dark of yester-day’s sky.
It’s the weekend’s Saturday night,
I am free for an evening and a day
it’s enough to keep me creatively at play,
outside on my patio, at my keyboard,
gratefully reflecting in mimicking fashion.