As sleep enfolds the moon seems to drip And the silky blue sky takes a sip Of the melting light carried by clouds And the evening sky is wrapped in shrouds Of billowing cotton candy sweetness Taking on a darkening uniqueness.
Quietly nocturnal creepers unite, Playing their games in the dead of night. By now in fitful sleep I resume To watch the endless picture consume My thoughts and dreams, cranial waste Some real pretty, some not to my taste.
Morning serves up English summer grey, The beauty of dripping moon’s gone away. But there’s always tonight through blurry eyes To make my own pictures out of the skies. ‘til then life calls with life’s daily grind And really, as for the future we’re blind .....
First of all, I love the title. That's so fresh and unique, how did you think of it? This whole piece is great, the mixture of nature, intelligence, and insight really speak to me here. The last stanza, in particular, spoke to me-- I really think I could hear Pink Floyd jamming to the rhythm of that stanza. Fantastic write my friend, a real pleasure, as always
Chairs thrown and tables toppled Hands armed with broken bottles Standing no chance to win, but We're not running, we're not running
Despite what drudgery the day brings, you'll always have moon-dreams, Kerry. Beautifully signified here, "endless picture consume my thoughts and dreams, cranial waste". Great style and rhyme make this simply a captivating pleasure to read. Bravo! H x
"Great spirits have always encountered violent opposition from mediocre minds." ~ Albert Einstein
I think our minds were in sync for a time, two poems on moonlight. Yours from a personal standpoint and mine a more abstract view. I like to think that they both compliment each other, but as your poem is in rhyme, you win Kerry. Well done pet.