Moon Blue Poems | Examples
These Moon Blue poems are examples of Blue poems about Moon. These are the best examples of Blue Moon poems written by international poets.
Blue called a meeting at half past two.
The moon borrowed a beam
for light inside the house.
The sea arrived on a horse.
Its tail curled up tight.
The sky was a writer.
It always had a pen.
The rain rushed in, his storm coat
dripping on the floor.
The wave measured its length
rushing through the door.
The cloud looked like it would burst.
It had been eating all day.
“The minutes?” Blue asked.
The sky had written them.
The wind had other ideas.
I beseech the sun to undress the stars
In the same manner you disrobe hearts
Inspiring indigo pulse to dance runaway
Carrying cranberry cries yellow yesterday
Exposed by charm your whimsical words
I’m like a feather in your arms like birds
Riding romantic breeze unlimited heights
Purple passion coloring days and nights
High as a red kite I’m destined to swoon
Emerald eyes hypnotized by light of moon
As a night flower power in your blue bloom
I lay with you hours as we cradle and spoon
As hot as lava you stir me from within
I am white paper ready to receive black pen
Words fall like rain despite night or day
Forever promising you’ll never go away
There was a moon over Paris—at noon
misplaced in space?
Awakened too soon?
noon moon,
I saw you floating alone
without a cloud in the sky
without a night of your own
And with the moon flying high above me
like cloud made of magical stone
I felt a wish I made celestially
might save me from being alone
noon moon,
I long for someone to care for
some one that I could be there for
someone to call all my own
.
.
Songs for this:
Blue Moon (feat. vGumiho) by Derivakat
Blue Moon by The Mavericks
Light shimmered upon the lake
Reflections of Luna's golden glow
She reigned in midnight blue skies
Gloriously glimmering before my eyes
a humble chicory
growing right by the roadside
all covered in dust...
its color still reminds me
of my father’s lovely eyes
A navigator
Looking for unknown answers
Today’s moon is blue
The Starry Night by Vincent Van Gogh
The night opens up in a swirl of blue.
A yellow crescent moon solos the distant sky,
Some masked town is central in the midst,
With a pointed church steeple,
Marking the blue-lit sky.
A formidable cypress tree,
Darkens the foreground,
As an artist adds light in the dark.
I Van Gough,
love my paints and canvas.
My brush is dancing with dark blue,
as it covers the white canvas.
I see yellow as a luminous moon in my work,
like the bright sun outside my window.
A little white for depth,
white is all colors as one.
Black is needed to make this night dark,
because my night sky is filled with swirling stars,
with a village and cypress trees looking mysterious.
I create with paints and canvas,
my writer friend creates with ink,
a quill pen on paper.
My work comes alive with paint,
my friend comes alive with words.
Now almost finished,
I want it to be about a heavenly night,
I see a "Starry Night,"
this should be your name.
"Starry Night,"
Painted By Vincent Van Gogh in 1889.
A sprightly little squirrel named Drew
sat under a moon that was oddly blue,
and as its glow soaked through the night,
it dyed his furry body a dazzling hue.
He blinked, he twitched, he gave a chirp,
for blue is bold and far from meek~
but Drew, now bright as midnight skies,
felt rather dapper, quite unique.
He scampered up a maple tree,
declaring, “Look! Just look at me!”
The forest gasped, for never yet
had anyone seen such tint on a squirrel so free.
And now when moonlight turns to blue
and paints the nighttime’s silver view,
the squirrels all gather, hoping too
for a moonlit moment
to change their fur to blue.
“Every sunrise brings another chance to begin again, reminding you that hope repeats itself more faithfully than fear ever could.” – Unknown
Fall in love with purple possibilities
Reach for silver stars
And when you catch them squeeze
Out a wish from red heart
Keep looking up be indigo inspired
Nothing holding you back be brave
Chase the moon keep reaching higher
Be all you dream of every single day
You are unique with talents you bring
They are a part of your amethyst appeal
Be like the blue bird with song to sing
From the rooftops be heard a thrill
Excite the universe with your gifts
Be who you are called to be
When you do your heart will lift
Yourself and those others in need
Hope is a light flickering so bright
Step into yourself and win at life
Inside the outside of everything
Colors conform to retreat
I seek not what is lost or gained
I only seek the truth or fiction
Inside the Outside of all
I stumble against the wall of remorse
And in the distance of morning or nightide
I see the truth as gospel or not
Colors bleed into morning or night
Like the dharma of dawn reborn
I see the raven flying or hanging
On a rope-ladder to the moon and back
I am dead but hopeful of life
In all the usual places or not
I am dead and only now
glimpse the truth
When the day is falling over
And a crescent moon peeps through
I am looking towards Dover
It is not too far from you
There is not a sign of cloud
In the muted blue of sky
It’s a picture without sound
Breathing softly drifts on by
And I see white cliffs of Dover
Though farsighted I am not
Hear the whirring of your mower
What a hearing I’ve got
In the quiet of a moment
In the glow of fading blue
I can sense more than I wanted
Except that I can’t see you.
By Phan Tan Hai
Opening the book, reading a few pages,
the words shine like precious jade—
a hidden diamond strength
stepping past the realm of sorrow.
The young girl’s laughter of long ago
echoes along the lines;
a strand of hair tied into the poem,
waiting for some future life of peace.
Following the Buddha pointing at the moon,
I mistake it again for a jade hand;
wading endlessly through the stream of prose,
someone’s laughter sounds like weeping.
A time when hair was very green,
a time of ten thousand words;
now the smile is soundless,
now the words are wordless.
Eyes lit bright as a night firefly’s
So beautiful so tenderly you gaze
Up above watching the starry sky
Cranberry lips parted and amazed
The moon is a glowing sole pearl
Dancing in velvety onyx clouds
Hard to imagine anything in this world
As beautiful as it or you right now
There is a ease how you talk to me
We are threads from the same cloth
Your hair blowing in navy blue breeze
Like your words so fresh and soft
Walk with me on the green grassy sea
Merge into a deep appreciation of peace
The somber sky falls flustered,
wrecks the crown of bejeweled night.
The sickle moon slices its glow,
dissolving at the brink of blue.
In the depth of opaque onyx
ground hears the footfall of stillness.
Glacial sense of chilled passion congeals
the exposure of lonesome secrecy.
The broken wings painfully curled,
can’t fly in the lacerating chill of winter,
enfold the frosted psyche,
fervent warmth freezes unfelt.
Frail emotive candle flame flickers,
the wind of cold abandon blows it out.
Morose mist enwraps the winter nights
within desolate distress innately framed.
The sky of longing falls frozen
on the permafrost of arctic silence,
with the icy torrent of the forlorn heart,
buried deep in the gelid blue of seclusion.