Poetry Moon Poems

These Poetry Moon poems are examples of Poetry poems about Moon. These are the best examples of Poetry Moon poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Pantoum |
Night spreads its magic cloak of midnight blue across the sky. Serenity slips down. I sing this pantoum lullaby for you as stars, like sequins, sparkle all around. Across the sky, serenity slips down beneath moon’s watchful gaze and steady glow. As stars like sequins sparkle all around, drift into Dreamland with my lyrics’ flow. Beneath moon’s watchful gaze and steady glow, I sing each line and then a second time! Drift into Dreamland with my lyrics’ flow. How restful is sweet rhythm and its rhyme. I sing each line and then a second time at end of day when sky holds poetry. How restful is sweet rhythm and its rhyme. In repetition lies security. At end of day when sky holds poetry, I sing this pantoum lullaby for you. In repetition lies security. Night spreads its magic cloak of midnight blue. For the Night Silence Contest of Nayda Ivette Negron

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2016

Details | Quatrain |
Sitting by her open window,
Was a girl deep in thought,
Lost within a book of Poe,
A perfect poem she sought.

With a curious eye,
He watches her pen,
For she gives it a try,
Every now and then.

He will visit her forevermore,
In silent hours of midnight,
Casting his shadow on her floor,
Within the full moonlight.

Mysterious, nocturnal bird,
Calling out to darkened land,
Speaking such wise word,
Which I cannot understand.

I am lonely, I must confess,
It's just you, me and the moon,
You are much like me, I guess,
So, please sing me another tune.

A messenger of death,
Wailing songs of a banshee,
Has my grim reaper cometh,
Was this warning meant for me?

My soul was projected,
In the shadow of a fowl,
A raven I had expected,
Not the silhouette of an owl!

Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2013

Details | Imagism |
With mouth open wide
I swallow whole the moon
hoping to feel the tides
deep within the womb
of my feminine side
allow this man to bloom.
Pregnant with ideas
I am giving birth to poems.
These rocks, rivers and trees
are all my native homes,
a glossy jagged marble
to sanctify these bones.
So look above no more
upon the seas of night
to search for Luna, grand,
no orb will grace the sky
for I have snatched her fullness
and ate a great moon pie.

Copyright © Phil Capitano | Year Posted 2017

Details | Prose Poetry |
I knew you long before
    pursuit's intention shone,
felt you in sun's fiery warmth
       & shooting star surrender,
heard your voice on soft
  burbled whispers of sweet zephyrs
    and nectar'd songs of hummingbirds,
saw your depths of magnificence
        in sapphire ocean tides
     cresting 'neath effulgent moons
savoring breaths of crystalline
   snowflakes on crisp sea air,
I knew strength in your convictions    
   for it braved every fantasy's illusion
     acquiesced 'tween dulcet desires,
whilst the strong presence of your charms
     envelop'd every night's dreaming

Copyright © Paloma P | Year Posted 2016

Details | Light Poetry |

              Fairy dance on the night moon
              The moon is half a shiny bow
              Resting on a dark blue velvet carpet
              Lingering in the shadows of passion
              I want to dance with the fairies in the night
              Sitting on top of the moon's arc

              Feeling the wind blow in my hair
              Looking down on everything that is at all worth seeing
              It is joy and delight in my eyes
              I hear the beautiful song ... it is the nightingale melody
              This is the place where I bring ... imagination wings
              A world there is room for everybody to live
              A world where no one needs to strive
              Then the tide can just come

A-L  Andresen :)

Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2013

Details | Rhyme |
Deep in the earth, a crypt of rock
slumber guarded by casket locked
Lips grope silence ‘ever more
 rasping thought, remembers whispered lore
Outstretched palms the roots do clench
tranquility stilled by festered stench
And eyes, sleep caked, are propped ajar
ignites no life, but collapsed star

Burned blades sigh, Winds’ dying gasp
bones brittle snap within her clasp
A lonesome howl the moon does draw
vigil broken, it twists its maw 
Upon an arena of endless stone
the granite gates they’ve passed alone
And entered a world of burning eyes
eluded the judge of smoldering cries

A faultless gait, no stumbled draw
a reaping brought  by scythe and claw
Opal edge which shrouds a cause
aberrant blade shapes nature’s laws
Dictate a script, the stars can share
an open secret, a language bare
Steps continue, feet are drawn
across gray grass, undying pawn

Copyright © Avery Swarthout | Year Posted 2015

Details | Romanticism |
Pursue love,
the love that has no meaning,
the silver ports of the moon,
shine so bright,
that it blinds you in the twilight
she is beautiful and she is divine
she is the song sang by the sweet nightingales
in the gardens of worthy, overgrowning and blooming roses,
like wildfire grow tall and the thornes of the vines
tangle around her feet and drag her ever so slightly
throughout the garden of beauty.
As the roses lay along a table,
as she sits at the table
and she waits for me, the wordman
to come to the dinner table at the stroke of nine
and sit with her,
start a scene or two of romantic setting,
to pursue love in her name.
Love is around us,
the candlelight shines and reflects in her silk hair,
as her evening dress glitters and shines
and her bossom shows itself in the nightsky
as we lay together,
we pursue a dream together,
forever we live together forever,
as we stand upon the belcony of Romeo and Juliet's love scene
we swim in a pool of sweet divine care and love,
we swallow grapes and drink wine
hand and hand on Persian rugs and virgin white cloth sheets,
we dance to a simple, yet sweet Chopin's masterpiece
of his beautiful nocturnes,
which make such a sweet and romantic song in our heads.

We stomp out the flames
as we dance the night away,
and you lay in my arms,
and I kiss you upon your lovely head,
and you hold my hand,
and I hold you tight
never thinking of letting your love go away from me,
I would take my own life,
before I lose your love.
See us together,
it is a painting that lasts lifetimes,
that needs no touch-ups.
I care for you and love you!
Love me, I know you will.

My sweet and loving portrait lady,
who in reality is more beautiful than a fully bloomed rose
that sits on its green stem,
in the garden of beauty that sits outside my window.
Come up to my chambers
as I picked roses for you and pettles litter the atmosphere
as love's tension grows
and suspence brings us together,
let us make love tonight
seal the passion
and pursue love once and for all.

Then shall we wake with the first rays of the blazing of the morning sun,
I shall wake next to your beauty and glory,
and I shall point my attention to the heavens
and thank the Gods for sending you on the open road,
toward my chamber door, I call my heart.
Then we shall dress, and walk the pathways
in the garden of beauty
and I shall pick a bauquet of roses
and we shall sit by the lake and pursue our love
for one another
and nothing, not one earthquake shall shake us apart.


Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013

Details | Quatrain |
Sagan grins from a Pale Blue Dot
As LCROSS finds water in Cabeus.
Is Su Shih's bright moon finally told --
Echoed by Dickinson's moon of gold?

Did Armstrong sit in contemplation
O'er cheesy man-in-the-moon inspiration
By Yeats, Coleridge, Thomas (Dylan) and Shelley;
Li Po, Longfellow, Whitman and Lindsay?

Under Moore's young moon of May we're planting
Bamboo groves in moonbeams slanting.
Moonrise to moonset, across dead rivers --
Elvis and Emily share moon-rock shivers.

To Sandburg's moon of harvest silver,
Wells used Cavorite (but just a sliver).
Now, listen as the Selonites motion --
Whispering of Earth and its teeming blue ocean.

While I, wild moon-child, begin to spool
By the light of Merritt's Lovecraftian Pool:
"Moon-water shall be the death of me
This year."

Copyright © Tom Arnone | Year Posted 2016

Details | Prose Poetry |
Supermoon picture: Manila, Philippines, on March 19, 2011 (biggest full moon of the year) The wind laughs softly The full moon with the stars In the sky, As I lie near the fountain Gazing at the Exquisite beauty Of the nature. It's the charm of the moon Opens so many thoughts And dreams. The moon Looks like a beautiful Ballerina Dancing with the troop of The professional stars. Twisting carelessly with the Elegance of a swan Through the lilac beauty Of the spring time. The sky seems a bandanna. A dewy freshness Fills my heart and soul. How beautiful is the night, I captivated, enchanted. Oh! Gealach, ben reine ny hoie. _________________________ "Gealach" means......Brightness, "ben reine ny hoie" means.....Queen of the night. The language of the Isle of Man. _________________________ The moon and the moon poetry in general seems to dispel the human centredness that we all suffer from. Thank you for reading. Chitta.

Copyright © Chittaranjan Dey | Year Posted 2012

Details | Light Poetry |

to sneak outside, into the gentle beauty of evening when all others are asleep, except for nocturnal hawks like me, I wander along the river's shore, in the twirling, dappled prism of waves, pebbles and buds, thrown across the grass by the skyline flickering through wind-tossed crowns of trees-- a rare sensation as though I were walking on a gossamer mantle of water : it's true, i love the taste of nightbreak softly caressing the glossy lacquer of summer tide-- a fragrant pewter, compared to the coppery sting of blistering daytime, that when my eyes inhale the grace offered by peeping clouds, is to be filled with a song of moonlight waltzing with the sea-breeze in a dance fest. Oh, sneaking outside in the near dusk hours has been a rite of mine since i was a child... and till now it beholds me, this magical pageant that began at age eight when from nowhere , a relay of stars and a new moon carried me out the gate and beyond this world-- if only to bestow upon me a mystical tour connecting heaven's light with waters blue. Water And Sky Contest of Gregory R. Barden Re-posted 1/5/2018

Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2013

Details | Light Poetry |

Along rails of ambivalent dreams, Bittersweet yet luscious flashbacks Take me back to my friend, the tactile moon – a Quiescent basin of grace and alchemy: we would utter And laugh about legends quite arcane from books Chipped from eve’s daily flamboyant story – telling rites… As willows stoop like night’s immolation for more Replays of drama, our guiding star acts as an intercessor For excuses to prolong near dusk's trail in our former home-- This quintessence of a young spirit’s hunger to journey Far across moon-friend’s range in an endless, mythical glide! 11.15.16 Ten word challenge -2 for John Hamilton

Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2016

Details | Free verse |
The breaking of dawn
and I start my day off with a yawn,
the dew covered the lawn,
the cool air blowing through my window
as the streets still soaked with the nightfall rain
comforted the scene of a beautiful sunrise
a gorgeous start to a new day.

See the flowers covered with droplets of dew and rain
feeling no such thing we call pain,
Dawn breaks,
as the sun rises with its powerful rays
that blind me in the far East,
the purple midnight skies go away,
and are replaced by ocean blue waves
and marshmallow, puffy clouds
that hold no more rain.

The sky idel upon a canvass of life
as the morning comutes travel down the steps
with coffee and newspaper in hand.
The women walking their dogs,
men catching the morning buses to work.
No use for pork
when you can't catch the morning train.
And then it starts to rain.

But the sun still shines,
and the moon is still out,
this moment, as dawn breaks
we are stuck in a parrallel between two worlds.
Such beauty in a morning sunrise
as the blue, dawn covered streets shine
as the sun reaches high over the Eastern treelines
and the lions roar and the birds fly south.

Waking up to a new, broad day
next to you, as the sun shines upon your sweet face.
I compare you to a morning sunrise
as Dawns break into a silent worldpool of a new beginning.
Something tells me that I am going to have a good day.

Waking up to a new, a new dawn
with a loud and relaxing yawn,
as I smell the dew on the lawn
See the moon and stars fade away,
and purple twilights go to sleep, on some other part of the world
Love for a sunrise in a morning dawn
that is the most beautiful scene any man has ever seen!

For the Contest: Morning Poems
Sponser: Poet Destroyer A
Written by: Christopher Boskovski

P.S. A poem for you my lovely Linda, I hope you enjoy this lovely and beautiful poem about the break of Dawn! :)

Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013

Details | Light Poetry |
" I  Am  MoonBee ... "

( Matt. 5: 14 - 16 )

I Am The Full Moon Rising
... and The Faithful Bee That Stings
I Bear The Sweet Drops of Honey
and Wear Lunar-Eclipses' Rings ...

... and once in a blue moon
or in the final moon of blood
I will wax and than wane
... and ride tidal waves to floods
( Acts 2: 17-20, 21 )

I Am The Silvery Moon
That Makes Night Oceans Gleam
... and The Bee Upon The Blossoms
In Seasons of Summer and Spring ...

... and once in a harvest moon
glowing generous and golden
I gather gardens, like bees
storing & spreading nectar-pollen 

Yet As The Full Moon Rises
and As The Bee Soars & Stings
The Brave, Little Bee Prepares To Die
As Moon Despairs Behind Cloud-Screens ...

... and Peeks Out As A Half-Moon
Yet - Still, Busy As A Bee
Still Reflecting Light & Truth
As Pure & Sweet As Fresh Honey ...

I Am The Crescent-Shape Moon
and The Bee's Honeycomb
and The Heart-Chamber of My Hive
Holds Moons 'Neath Heaven's Throne ...

I Am The Halo-Spotted Moon
and The Sound of Humming Bees
In Prayer-Swarms of Sacred Songs
I Declare In Moonlit-Melodies ...

... and once by a midnight moon
in marching scenes of sky
set as signs & times & cycles
& measure-symbols for earthkind's eyes
( Gen. 1: 14-18 )

I Am The Full Moon Rising
Yet Falling Softly Upon Seas
That Care & Colonize Like Bees
& Bear Messages of Great Kings ...
( Matt. 28: 18, 19, 20 )

... and once in a hunter's moon
in shades of yellow and black
there shone glimpses of paths & visions
where moon kept sight & tracks

I've A Luminary Lamp
Like The Moon In Full Glory
I've A Duty To People & Purpose
Like A Queen Bee's Story ...

I Am The Full Moon Rising
... and The Faithful Bee That Stings
Yet, I Share Much Healing Honey
and Bear Many, Bright Moonbeams ...

- for I am the devout MoonBee
pollinating & polishing dreams -

    Written & Copyrighted ©:  5/22/2014
                by:  MoonBee  Canady

Copyright © MoonBee Canady | Year Posted 2014

Details | Prose Poetry |
I have died to see my life grow from this dark holes of endless torture, nothing is here to 
stay, I do not want the nights to fall upon dead eyes, sober the ecstasy the devil put on your lips, behold the end with embraced cold, this night will kill us all, fear the dead for been the ones to judge tonight, the clouds walk straight to grave, the moon shines bright in red, the sun dances under endless fire, we the child's have failed to acknowledge wrong, we have fought the war by ourselves, we don't feel the sun warm our face at morning shine by our behaviors, we don’t die for free, either vane, fear this hell to rise upon your shoulders, I fear the end with shattered dreams of desperation, cant scream either punch, walls are too strong, sweat blinds my eyes, sweat cleans my filthy soul, take down the moon tonight dear, I shall pay you with my blood, devils stealing souls, we cant sleep to lose it all, loosing my eyes to see beyond the horizon burning, the smoke makes the day die fast, I don’t want to live if all I feel is pain, either do many, my name is not of importance, but the feeling is the one to make the night, dancing upon the chest of the earth, tonight we shine with the moon dressed in red, tomorrow we rule the sky, for yesterday we ruled the grounds, underworlds are dying to see me arrive, I am welcome to this dinner, deals are broken tonight, we have sold what we don’t have to give the better plan, oh green threes, they still live inside a cruel dead state end, bring me the horizon, bring me the hells, that I know this will decay, that I know this will perish, oh my heart will stop the night of the red dance... Prayers are heard yester night, the song is loud, making the clouds tremble and dance, darken eyes, you see the sky full of darken eyes, you lay at night to line the clouds and you make pitiful devils out of the big galaxy above you, this is not the end, I am the man who writes down your prayers, who writes down each tear numbered by deceitful plague, bring my eyes to see the skies, please break me free from this night, from this cell, cold and chained, far away, we keep on trying, breaking the trust of our friends, no one will save us now, is not now, I don't need the time, I am dead to you and I refuse to be your slave, engrave my eyes in this decayed kingdom of fallen messiah’s, please give me time to fear your wrath, please give me the signs of victory, I want and need to know how much you feel for me, I feed you with my blood, now repay

Copyright © Derek Ortiz | Year Posted 2010

Details | Prose Poetry |
Side by side we shall swim our sea of dreams,
float the waves and their caressing kisses.
Walk the stars holding hands, tip toe stardust
as it falls, answer the echo of beating hearts.
And in the land where rainbows span, the 
souls wish shall be sated by that gift of
eternity. The foreverness of you is my life's
desire, as your fragrance fills the boundaries
of my senses. For I was smitten by that first
touch, when eyes said and meant so much,
when this heart fell to its knees and I found
loves finest hour. When paradise could not
comprehend nor heaven compare to that
pleasure that filled this heart. Forever let
these lips taste of you, forever be the
morning view and sunsets fall, my warming
sun and calling moon.

Copyright © Daniel Cheeseman | Year Posted 2010

Details | Rhyme |
The light of the moon slivered upon her hair,
The calm breeze flickered the lanterns dim glare,
Followed by a gust blowing it out with a flare, 
The heavens opened up with stars everywhere,
Playful eyes swimming as they stare,
Taffeta laid and her beauty now bare,
Sensual caress of a touch now paired, 
Tremble of lips with fervent kiss shared,
Friction of grass with intensity gasping air,
Zenith in line as I wait my time to flair, 
Another summer night and I always want to be right there.


Copyright © Corwin Donovan | Year Posted 2017

Details | Sonnet |
Where Rests, That Lost Moon And Its Shadowed Light

Where flies lies, bright gold and fancy will do
Grim Reaper's scythe also cuts grain for sweet bread,
Darkness claims such tripe is novel and true!
Ah but! What shall be found only when dead?

Where rests, that lost moon and its shadowed light
Stars dim in chaotic and morbid tunes,
When deep-blind, darkness may appear so bright
Waters drank gaily from tallest sand dunes!

Where stones falling are held to be sweet signs
Innocence goes hungry, wears dirty rags,
Evil dwells content in high mountain pines
Soft clouds crash into high rocky crags!

Where flies lies, bright gold and fancy will do
Darkness claims such tripe is novel and true!

Robert J. Lindley, 6-07-2017


Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2017

Details | Personification |
The Sun will bring the light
It makes your day so bright
"I'll be here, I'll be here" said he
The light would bring eternity.

The moon shines with the star
That makes your wish went far
"I'll be here, I'll be here" said she
My moon light would bring eternity

The sun and the moon met one time
They never met each for a long time
"How are you? How are you?"asked they
Then both days and nights are gay.

One day the moon went away
And the sun was left and turns to gray
"Where are you? where are you?"asked he
But no response was heard for glee.

Copyright © Angelo Faunillo | Year Posted 2015

Details | Verse |
The carpet's paid for; God Bless the TV
It keeps us informed.
Cosy in our little room with the curtain drawn
one thing's for certain, we still have
our window on the world

Slowly we've slipped
into 'couch-potato-hood'
Rarely, we fight, over which shows are good
You hold the remote,"It's understood."

Flip, flip, you change channels, searching
for a show with some meaning to you, while
I with books piled high beside me, sit oblivious-
searching for meaning in poetry
I battle with inadeqate words against
the TV's droning tune

Some night I'll write one that 
shoots holes in the moon.

Copyright © Suzanne Delaney | Year Posted 2013

Details | Quatrain |
I shall compose you a poem,
below your round, shining face,
for this is where I feel at home,
a pen within my warm embrace.

Underneath this moon of red,
my soul begins to dance and sing,
I awaken my spirits, once dead,
at this midnight hour of spring.

Red moon born from an eclipse,
no better time to work my spell,
your hue mimics my crimson lips,
Just watch me break out of my shell.

Dave Wood's contest - "Red Moon"

Copyright © Kelly Deschler | Year Posted 2014

Details | Free verse |
            My Son Moon and Star ~

        Approaching the celebration of his Birth 
                cherishing the gift I received 
           within weeks of conception I knew
            something amazing was in Creation ~

            the Stars held a party
            sending me with one of their own  
    Gazing at 3 shooting stars twinkling crossing the sky   
       It was magic  It was destiny taking its flight.  

           In love with an October full moon 
               drawing and painting I liked 
             thinking of Vincent Van Gogh ~
                caught in a loss of time 

          Hours going by as choosing my color  
           a wittness to three falling stars 
             A clear night sky sparkle's
           A once Famous Star was sent 
            inspiring the tiny child inside ~ 

           Never a doubt in my mind at all     
       child bearing was worth any pain received
      yours will be in a pursuit of a dream ~
             one to cherish and hold
          My Son was born the following August ~

    working on the set of Grimm 3rd season this year  
         as the set of Leverage for 3 years .

              Has done a Indie movie here  
             In Paris it was seen and honored
             coming soon filmed in Portland ~
                 "The House of Last Things "

        awaiting the credits , you will see
    1st Assistant Director ~ production assistant 
                 My Young Lion Mans dream ~
        A proud mom I watch every show and the credits 

        as foretold in a whisper to me 25 years ago
              My Son &  Moon and Star  
               A name you will all know ~

            Happy Birthday to my creative Son
             you will exist in my heart forever~
                        and thereafter               

Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013

Details | Light Poetry |
(A Children's Poem)

I see you
          little star
sidling up to the moon
          to steal a kiss
from off his brow.

I see you
          little star
twinkling in the sky
          winking at me
as you pass by.

I see you
          little star
gliding past milky whey
          on your way
down to where we are.

Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2014

Details | Prose Poetry |
The moon dripped like wax through 
the canopy of the pines, light and 
shadow were scattered across the
ground like playing cards.
The air was still, the scent of danger
there but difficult to locate, yet the 
nostrils still twitched in mistrust.
In knowing that this is their time, 
time to forage, snout and graze this 
fertile floor, it is also realized that 
this is the hour of the hunter, he 
who walks with feet shod in death.
In the absence of scent sound is the
ally the startled bird a friend and the
passing cloud a closet in which to
Cloven feet tread the fern, in this
tranquillity all is fostering, caring,
the procedure of life has no pace 
but always achieves its aim, natural
progression achieved by time and 
adaptation, little gained by the ever
presence of man, more so the rigid
adaptability to the elements given.
Yes I walk the forest at night, not
with rifle or bow, but with my dogs, 
dreams and respect.

Copyright © Daniel Cheeseman | Year Posted 2011

Details | Sonnet |
The quiet city, is still half asleep the morning moon's glow pierces through the sky, stars gather close, as if they were in heaps watching faint clouds, as they slowly drift by. What will become of this December morn? Will the birds sing happily, in the snow? Forests of green, snow still waits to be worn resting underneath, the morning moon's glow. The morning moon's glow, seems to shine so bright a cool, crisp feeling, settles in the air, nature awaiting, the peek of daylight to be held with warm, tender, loving care. Silently, I gaze through my big window standing in awe, of the morning moon's glow. Copyright © Cynthia Jones Dec.15/2005 This is the first time I've written a Shakespearean Sonnet. I was inspired by the brightly lit moon this morning.

Copyright © Cynthia Jones | Year Posted 2015

Details | Light Poetry |

She gleams lusciously waking evening with melon hues, tendrils of roasted flames drip of crystal orange sensation. And so, in the glide of August nestling on cherries, bouquets, and wine--- I relish Mystic Moon’s tones bursting into a luster of desire, a sheer madness on wheat fields near and far… Oh how she blazes more daring than midsummer, flitting as a woman whose spirit enters inside my pores on a clear skyline. Like the glaze she was born from, Mystic Moon thrusts her citrine arms fluid, wild, loving; her feverish way of tasting her own moment highlighting the stencils of open light; as she gleams, oh so lusciously!. Theme #5--The Moon Contest sponsored by SKAT

Copyright © nette onclaud | Year Posted 2014

Details | Light Poetry |
Some people say the sky’s not really blue
And the moon was never made of green cheese,
That Clangers and their whistling is a myth
And pocket money doesn’t grow on trees.

But tell a child the sky isn’t blue,
That the moon isn’t really made of cheese,
Or say the Clangers never make a sound
And watch how childhood withers in the breeze.

The sky is full of wonder and we know
The astronomic miracles of space,
The moon is rock and Clangers don’t exist
But does this really have to be the case?

So for a child the sky is azure blue,
Wallace and Gromit  proved the moon is cheese,
The Clangers whistle happily all day
And pocket money really grows on trees.

I tried to touch the sky but failed to find
A barrier high above beside the moon.
I found that space is everywhere and so
The means to travel there can’t come too soon.

For somewhere else I know the sky is blue
And stars are diamonds in a velvet sky,
A planet full of Clangers does exist
And childhood magic lives to make reply.

Too soon reality will take its toll
When adult life will burden me and you,
A gentle fairytale will ease the pain
If you believe the sky is really blue.

Copyright © Elisabeth Sheaffer | Year Posted 2013

Details | Prose Poetry |
There is an old saying....
keep your friends near, but keep your enemies even closer...

This is a poem about a very smart Chick...
Who was very resourceful and very slick...
Rumor had it there was a Wolf, and he had a way...
Of taking advantage of everyone on any given day...
He had terrorized the neighborhood for the very last time...
They had a town meeting , and all agreed...
That the only choice was a dastardly deed... 
Chick volunteered to take on the challenge...
And majority stated, he had to explunge...
“I’d love to have you over for dinner on Friday “ said Chick...
To which Wolf stated quite arrogantly, but quick...
It would be my pleasure...see you at eight...
There was a beautiful shining Harvest Moon, when Wolf arrived at the gate...
Come sit in my hot tub, said Chick turning on some tunes...
Dinner should be ready very soon...
The water is hot , said the Wolf...
Ahh , but your body will feel so much better...
Just relax and drink this wine, dinner will have much more flavor... 
Hours went by...then the doorbell rang...
It was the Pigs,  from town known as the “ gang “...
Quick grab a chair and please be aware ...
That I have slaved all day for this affair...
One which will change your perception of me...
I might be a Chick, but as you will see...
I have accepted the challenge, and done my best...
So do me a favor and please honor my request ... 
Use your best table manners, and please do not squeal...
And for everyone’s sake, try not to “ Wolf “ down this  meal...

Copyright © kj force | Year Posted 2014

Details | Iambic Pentameter |
Low hanging moon with softened gleam
As stars peek down I take my rest
I lie beneath a sheen of cream
Low hanging moon with softened gleam
A shimmer of beam as I dream 
A sliver lining at its best
Low hanging moon with softened gleam
As stars peek down I take my rest

By willow rain October 5th 2014 
For contest

Copyright © Bonnie morawa | Year Posted 2014

Details | Prose Poetry |
Plant Earth, full of crystal clear waters
Blue as far as the sky can see
Land masses to hold intriguing life forms
Not knowing of its true power
Maybe its just innocence or ignorance
Greens poke their heads out of the ground to say 'hello'
Your not alone
Look up and you'll see the sun (king)
Hot temperament
The suns been worshipped and feared
A super powerful light source
But don't get to near or it'll burn you for life
The sun was bullied by all the other planets
When it was just a star starting out
Got ostracized for being a nosense
(To big and to damn bright)
None of the other planets wanted it around
Until Earth shook hands and exchanged conversation
Meteorites are just gossips
Flying to each destination on a full tank of gas
Not caring who it hits
Shooting stars are the ballerinas of the universe
They give off a mysterious flare
Make a wish and it'll come true
Just keep that image in your mind
The moon wanted to quit years ago
Felt that it had no purpose
Just a grey boulder that gets in the way

Copyright © Miya Fontaine | Year Posted 2014

Details | Rhyme |
A burning golden river.
A thousand ember dots.
Whose endless waking slivers,
Hide liquid molten knots

A contented purring timbre 
Of viscous weary rock,
Caught in eyes of amber
And weeping molten locks

Its ingot rivlet ripples
Wafting whispers in the air.
Its quaking thunder trickles,
Build shaking sunder mares

Brushing one another,
Aurus tears they bleed
Darkened flesh they smother,
In dripping gilded creed

Burning golden river,
A weaving flame no more
Dusty charred banks quiver
Slaked in starlit gore.


Copyright © Avery Swarthout | Year Posted 2015