Lunar Night
Lay bare on a hillside enrich the deepest darks
mirrored on a shattered lake of glass,
broaden the night congress among stars.
Willow trees weep to a waters edge
a dozen brown moths flutter beyond,
golden dust falls by leaves a moth’s chosen path
our full moon beauty mysteriously bound.
My golden moon once was our relic
shone down a gleaming charm on silver lined sky,
her years of glory, eclipsing, rotating, waiting,
though shortening, shattering, soon to die.
© Andrew Lockley 2008
Hey, great poetry.
look, you received a gift from me:
look it:
http://likemyway.blogspot.com/2008/05/blogueiro-fiel.html
this is a gift, cause you are a faithful blogger.
see you!
Somehow i missed the point. Probably lost in translation 🙂 Anyway … nice blog to visit.
cheers, Queenlike!