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.
Poetry | Stories | Photography
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
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 awhile,
for the moon keeps moving
so the gypsy moves too

Running to nowhere or
somewhere, she feels alone.
The moon is full tonight,
yet it shines strangely upon her sorrow.
Misunderstood nymph,
the woods give you so much love.
Once trees provide a seat,
she looks to the blood-red moon.
She is sadly no more.