Walking towards a destination,
stepping on the concrete jungle.
The last light is moving into the night
as the moon rises into the sky;
an orb so big and bright, so alive.
Silver spoons handed never to you,
yet the thought of only one would’ve helped;
a favour to help you walk the chosen path.
Noises, emotions, a convoluted mess;
you drown it all out with your world: music.
Turning the corner, it’s only you and the moon.
You share a moment before the darkness closes in,
and the dreams you cannot grasp,
seem too vivid and bright.
A moony sky
lighting up the night.
slowly warming up.
as Sunday is here.
Doing little, feeling
a lazy kind of vibe,
as Sunday passes.
a fleeting heart unable to stay still
consumed by wild nomadic desires
always chasing something elusive
called by unconventional affections
a moon gypsy looks to the night sky
calling to the moon to stay a while,
for the moon keeps moving
so the gypsy moves too
You had a Winter Solstice. I had a Summer Solstice. Yet the moon is the same for both of us.
Looking up, I hold a candle to the sky and thank nature for you. I wonder what you’ll do?
We’ll come together soon to celebrate the and light, as we wish for beautiful days.
Running to nowhere or
somewhere, she feels alone.
The moon is full tonight,
yet it shines strange upon her sorrow.
the woods give you so much love.
Once trees provide a seat,
she looks to the blood red moon.
She is sad no more.