Notes About The Poem
Boulevard of the Beloved Poetry Contest sponsored by Ink Empress
The Moon's Last Letter
There are only two things that all of you see.
There is the life-giving sun. There is me.
The sun gives energy. The sun grows food,
but 'tis I, that puts you in the mood.
The sun makes a flower, and I make a tune.
By now, have you guessed I'm the moon?
The shimmering light I shine is not my own.
It's Sol's reflection that you are shone,
Yet, this sleight of hand, from the sky above,
makes men and women fall in love.
So, love me in return. Don't let me be misread,
and where all people go, let it always be said,
"From every mountain peak and crater,
the moon is an honest manipulator".
I've been around since the earliest times.
So many couples sit there and stare.
If you gave me 10 cents, I'd be rich from the dimes
from each time "he" would brush back "her" hair,
as I treat them to a heavenly bliss,
and he silently leans in for a kiss.
Yes, I've been here since the earliest ages,
attending to his and her spiritual needs.
When poems were on lips, not yet on pages,
where his eyes, her eyes, by moonlight would read.
Listen, earth's children, though it may be a shock,
I've grown lonely. I'm old. I'm beginning to tire,
and to confess, I'm a humongous dark rock.
You'll have to make do with the sun's glowing fire.
I have but a cold heart of iron and stone.
So, lover, so poet, put away your pen.
I'm out here floating in space all alone.
Goodbye. You won't see me. I shan't rise again.
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.
