Moon
Alone I watch the seven seas,
awash with tears of brine.
The restless sands are refugees,
the Moon has lost its shine.
I hear the wind sigh through the trees,
an empty, lonesome whine.
I long to feel a gentle breeze,
of breath so soft, benign.
I feel a deep, profound unease;
a future in decline.
I search for hope, perhaps reprise.
I seek the merest sign.
This awful truth is hard to seize,
our lives can not entwine.
No more to touch, nor squeeze, nor stroke,
nor hold your hand in mine.
~
Fir Lisa's 'The Moon and Back' Competition. 22nd April 2013.
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