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Literature Text
A waxing moon does shine its light
Upon a meadow green
Tonight it be a witching night
The likes that none have seen.
O yes that waxing moon does shine
Upon the grass and trees
The mist, it has the taste of brine
What mysteries we've yet to see.
There is magic in the waxing moon
Unicorns they come to feed
Shouting laughter from the Loon
Here be no ill will, nor greed.
The waxing moon illuminates
As their be fairy folk upon the knoll
With a festive atmosphere creates
A warming heart to any soul.
A waxing moon does shine its light
Upon that meadow green
The day now takes away the night
And steals away those things unseen…
Upon a meadow green
Tonight it be a witching night
The likes that none have seen.
O yes that waxing moon does shine
Upon the grass and trees
The mist, it has the taste of brine
What mysteries we've yet to see.
There is magic in the waxing moon
Unicorns they come to feed
Shouting laughter from the Loon
Here be no ill will, nor greed.
The waxing moon illuminates
As their be fairy folk upon the knoll
With a festive atmosphere creates
A warming heart to any soul.
A waxing moon does shine its light
Upon that meadow green
The day now takes away the night
And steals away those things unseen…
Literature
the moon and boys
pretty boys with
moonlit teeth and tangled
hair that shines perpetually in
the aftermath of your first
break-up
remind you that not all things
beautiful are
kind.
Literature
Moon
Moon
You left the knife on the drainboard,
bits of lettuce scattered like green rice.
We should get married, you tell me,
this house tight as a ring around us.
In every room, sleep waits for me.
Sometimes I wake sprawled on the wooden floor
not remembering that I fell.
Things blur, the copper pans
hanging on the wall swell in tight glowing bellies
woven rugs flow like rivers.
At night, your face flowers into an open moon,
filling our bed with light
There is no place left to hide.
Literature
looking for the moon
"1 in 3 teens on the street will be
lured toward prostitution within
48 hours of leaving home.”
-National Runaway Hotline
you’ve always kept your suitcase under the bed
and your baby teeth in the sock drawer. see, you
were saving them — the teeth, i mean — for the
day you finally learned to let go.
escape always tickles the underside of your decisions.
you’re the skinned knees type: bumpy elbows and
gapped teeth, more freckles than your father knows
how to play connect-the-dots with.
one Tuesday 3 years ago, the moon never showed
so you learned how to pack your suitcase and went
out looking
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Perhaps a sign that I am getting my muse back. We shall see...
©All of my works are copyrighted and may not be reproduced or copied without my express permission
©All of my works are copyrighted and may not be reproduced or copied without my express permission
Comments32
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I absolutely love this- first the subject catches my attention, but the lines that repeat give it an empowering feeling, especially when the first TWO lines are the same in the very first and last stanzas. Just excellent. You achieved the magical mystical feel and I enjoyed it to the fullest!
