Wishing for something more
willing this feeling to depart
Even the moon laughs soft
every star seems so light
Wishful thinking takes hold
warping time’s despair
Poetry | Stories | Photography
Wishing for something more
willing this feeling to depart
Even the moon laughs soft
every star seems so light
Wishful thinking takes hold
warping time’s despair
you look to the moon,
the moon looks to you,
in reflections of beauty
A kiss to the moon
Let me sleep without bad dreams
The heavy clouds cry

No air to tell of love and loss,
alone within your space.
Bathypelagic Sand Dollar of the stars,
you seem so diffident.
Calm and round,
you turn tides on or help a heart’s loss.
Oceans look upward,
as your face so bright lights up the night.
Lovely eyes
so full of light
A soft heart
alive at night
By the Winter moon
within clouded starlight
Do not go too soon
dancing in the moonlight
Beautiful flower
a charmer of the night
Womanly power
take me into the light
Run Away with me
Dance on a cloud, touch the stars
On the moon, we sit
You were born with a silver spoon,
there was never any need to wonder at the moon,
excessive living, the light leaves your cold eyes much too soon.

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.
Cold sheets
slowly warming up.
Sleeping late,
as Sunday is here.
Doing little, feeling
a lazy kind of vibe,
as Sunday passes.
Burning red sunset
paints the sea with soft colours,
as the moon arrives.

Photo – Sven Leveque