Moon and Stars
The moon and stars used to be
both things that brought joy to me.
Now I see them one and all,
forms that find a need to fall.
Drop and leave a vacant spot
where two lovers claimed their lot.
Spreading dust of dreams once made,
fireflies glitter in the glade.
I used to see moon's face aglow,
shooting moonbeams down below.
In youth I gathered them up,
kept them in a lidded cup.
I dreamed I would grab a star,
place it in a covered jar.
When I'd have to make a wish,
I'd just have to view that dish.
These memories bound up tight.
My star captured from the night.
And yet still I cannot seem
to find that sparkle in my dream.
Youth has gone and old age stayed.
Only blackness where stars once played.
I dream now of midnight bliss,
when stars and moon bow and kiss.
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