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These are poems about starlight and moonlight, moons and stars, dreams and visions, illuminations and intimations … Will There Be Starlight by Michael R. Burch Will there be starlight tonight while she gathers damask and lilac and sweet-scented heathers? And will she find flowers, or will she find thorns guarding the petals of roses unborn? Will there be starlight tonight while she gathers seashells and mussels and albatross feathers? And will she find treasure or will she find pain at the end of this rainbow of moonlight on rain? Published by Starlight Archives, The Chained Muse, Writ in Water, Jenion, Famous Poets and Poems, Grassroots Poetry, Poetry Webring, TALESetc and The Word (UK) Step Into Starlight by Michael R. Burch Step into starlight, lovely and wild, lonely and longing, a woman, a child... Throw back drawn curtains, enter the night, dream of his kiss as a comet ignites... Then fall to your knees in a wind-fumbled cloud and shudder to hear oak hocks groaning aloud. Flee down the dark path to where the snaking vine bends and withers and writhes as winter descends... And learn that each season ends one vanished day, that each pregnant moon holds no spent tides in its sway... For, as suns seek horizons— boys fall, men decline. As the grape sags with its burden, remember—the wine! Published by The Lyric, Poetry Life & Times and Opera News Regret by Michael R. Burch Regret, a bitter ache to bear... once starlight languished in your hair... a shining there as brief as rare. Regret... a pain I chose to bear... unleash the torrent of your hair... and show me once again— how rare. Published by The HyperTexts and The Chained Muse Infectious! by Hafiz aka Hafez loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch I became infected with happiness tonight as I wandered idly, singing in the starlight. Now I'm wonderfully contagious— so kiss me! Published by Better Than Starbucks and Poem Today Bath by Moonlight by Michael R. Burch She bathes in silver ~~~~~afloat~~~~~ on her reflections.… Kin by Michael R. Burch O pale, austere moon, haughty beauty... what do we know of love, or duty? Kindred by Michael R. Burch Rise, pale disastrous moon! What is love, but a heightened effect of time, light and distance? Did you burn once, before you became so remote, so detached, so coldly, inhumanly lustrous, before you were able to assume the very pallor of love itself? What is the dawn now, to you or to me? We are as one, out of favor with the sun. We would exhume the white corpse of love for a last dance, and yet we will not. We will let her be, let her abide, for she is nothing now, to you or to me. Moon Lake by Michael R. Burch Starlit recorder of summer nights, what magic spell bewitches you? They say that all lovers love first in the dark... Is it true? Is it true? Is it true? Starry-eyed seer of all that appears and all that has appeared— What sights have you seen? What dreams have you dreamed? What rhetoric have you heard? Is love an oration, or is it a word? Have you heard? Have you heard? Have you heard? I wrote this poem in my teens, during my "Romantic Period." It has been set to music by David Hamilton, the award-winning Australian composer who also set "Will There Be Starlight" to music. Only Flesh by Michael R. Burch Moonlight in a pale silver rain caresses her cheek. What she feels is an emptiness more chilling than fear... Nothing is questioned, yet the answer seems clear. Night, inevitably, only seems to end. Flesh is the stuff that does not endure. The sand begins its passage through narrowing glass as Time sifts out each seed yet to come. Only flesh does not last. Eternally, the days rise and fall with the sun; each bright grain, slipping past, will return. Only flesh fades to ash though unable to burn. Only flesh does not last. Only flesh, in the end, makes its bed in brown grass. Only flesh shivers, pale as the pale wintry light. Only flesh seeps in oils that will not ignite. Only flesh rues its past. Only flesh. Nashville and Andromeda by Michael R. Burch I have come to sit and think in the darkness once again. It is three a.m.; outside, the world sleeps... How nakedly now and unadorned the surrounding hills expose themselves to the lithographies of the detached moonlight— breasts daubed by the lanterns of the ornamental barns, firs ruffled like silks casually discarded... They lounge now— indolent, languid, spread-eagled— their wantonness a thing to admire, like a lover's ease idly tracing flesh... They do not know haste, lust, virtue, or any of the sanctimonious ecstasies of men, yet they please if only in the solemn meditations of their loveliness by the erect pen... Perhaps there upon the surrounding hills, another forsakes sleep for the hour of introspection, gabled in loneliness, swathed in the pale light of Andromeda... Seeing. Yes, seeing, but always ultimately unknowing anything of the affairs of men. Published by The Aurorean and The Centrifugal Eye Keywords/Tags: moon, full moon, star, stars, night, nightfall, dark, dream, dreams, dreaming, dream time, dream girl, love, affinity and love, bittersweet love, blind love Published as the collection "Poems about the Moon and Stars"
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