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Cold Moon Rising

There was a cold moon rising up As Death passed o'er the plain He passed me by then seemed confused And searched for me again But I was young and had no fear Of things I could not see As I fought on with wit and steel While Death still searched for me The cannon's roar and dying screams Were softened by the moon And I stood up and shook my fist For Death would find me soon Now I lie quiet in the grave With crosses in a row And I will rest eternally Beneath a cold moon's glow 3-10-19 Contest: Pick A Title... Cold Moon Rising Sponsor: Edward Ibeh

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019




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Date: 3/24/2019 7:38:00 AM
Congratulations on your well-deserved win in my contest, Larry:-)
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Date: 3/14/2019 11:28:00 PM
I love it that "death searched for me again". This poem is well-written, and easy to relate to. I imagine death does this sometimes.
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Date: 3/10/2019 3:40:00 PM
Just wonderful is this poem which so perfectly describes that cold moon over a cold cemetery of cold bodies of brave men and women...though I believe their souls live in the warmth of God's everlasting love. Good luck in the contest though I doubt you need it.
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Bradfield Avatar
Larry Bradfield
Date: 3/10/2019 4:41:00 PM
Thank you so much, Carole!

Book: Shattered Sighs