My Mood Peculiar By the Moon
In the quaint darkness I hear these whispers,
my mood peculiar by the moon...
Arcane eyes transcend a flame fluttering there,
near the windowpane, candle's light burns.
Turns my thought to dimensions that dwindle,
like a solemn Spindler's yarn of silky weaves
of conceived creation by the swindler's hands.
Hardened by the years of gifting love's deeds,
yet gentled by the reeds of nature's brood...
my mind peculiar by the moon.
The air around breathes life in as breath fades away,
as day becomes the soul of night
and night the fading breath of yesterday...
All the while we play and dance at will
while willing the love we feel to feel,
as though breath itself be the only true,
I breathe in you...
my mood peculiar by the moon
I breathe in you.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
