Who's knocking like that?
"... in the light of a feather..."
and as bright as full noon
Brunette replies to HarleQuinn
"... is this your spoon?..."
Dialog established
Act three, Honey Moon
Then Pooh said to Piglet
"... it really is you!..."
a Mile works for Her
and her smile works too
"... you should never pull a brain out before it's time..."
So Harvey kept the jars
in a closet sublime
"... that 'ol Mason, was a friend of mine..."
Matters never falter
nor do friends over wine
so Harvey squared the cuts
24 at a time...
they agreed to win win
and wrote until dawn
they made great music
recording new songs
... and then they decided
to take Time for a ride...
"...It was Albert's birthday
so we headed in for pi..."
While the city rests under the velvet of skyline ,
I lie awake to trace a highway of clouds
trailing against a lunar pageant,
as evening shadows alter different time zones
throughout the universe's frame--
while ambrosial rawness enters my pores
from the fondle of this waxing red-ball.
Oh Clair de Lune...there is something mysterious
about your portrait of near midnight: amiable...
dangerous, and carnal ; just ripe for my heart
to listen as nocturnal larks trill a serenade--
each note ready to multiply into hundreds
of minutes; that such orb's mystery remains
unanswered by all creatures anticipating
a new moon's rhapsody gradually simmering
like your allured chant which flames
upon lovers' clandestine rendezvous.
For Craig Cornish: Claire De Lune
Revised, new poem 8/7/2018
Half-past dusk, and I am seated on a low wall,
the custodian of the garden my Mother made.
Two of the primary colours rest awhile,
but blue is still busy.
There is a stillness,
punctuated by furtive shadows.
Above, silent, like a parent standing over a sleeping child,
the moon keeps watch.
So distant, yet almost touchable.
The Sun may be gone but I will see it again soon,
and in the meantime it consoles me with the gift of reflection.
Just like my Mother.
Her spirit is in this place, and I am not alone.
5th August 2018
For contest 'Clair de Lune', sponsor Craig Cornish
Clair de lune
How you make me swoon
And dream of romance
Mesmerizing and enchanting
Impassioned embraces
In the night
Endless kisses
In a fragrant garden
Moonlit and divine
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
By the crescent moon above
I dreamt of your embrace, my love
In the moonlight by the sea
We sailed away just you and me
Protected by the clair de lune
A million stars on honeymoon
Enlaced we pledged fidelity
Our hearts teeming with intensity
The moon our witness for eternity
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Submitted on August 23, 2018 for contest LATE AUGUST 2018 PREMIERE sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - RANKED 10TH
When evening dusk falls from the edge of night
like a loosened taffeta from bridal halls
the wrist pulse slows as the stars align
their talisman to keyon thoughts of you
She dances to the steps of light
like a wild specimen heralding dark graphite
tuning herself into the rocking motion
of a philanthropic ocean;
She is your clair de lune, your telling rune
beneath the velvet cloak of a thickening eve
she sends you dreams of love and fantasies
that reign as easily as gliding rain
into your hungry heart....
July 29, 2018
Would an artist hand over
his paint brush in exchange
for the happiness of this world
Watching the moon
finish its last work but
not putting a signature
Fails to capture that beauty
thet golden glow that comes
through the mind of a painter
While the time passes realizes
that it was not created to
describe the sound of a quiet night
A Poet Called Clair
There was once a poet named Clair,
Who produced poetry, out of thin air.
When asked, “How is it done?”
She said, “I do it for fun.”
And produced another; right then and there.
Barry Stebbings
06/09/17
A pensive moon lets fall the rain
that calls you to a darkened sill,
where, apprehensive, you remain,
held captive in her thrall
until she waxes at the window pane
to ask intently if you'll still be back
when she's gone past her wane
Beyond the glass,
you swear you will...
Feather light, dancing to and fro
Garden rapture the fairies know
A wistful touch, perhaps to try
To touch the wing of a butterfly
Tears upon the lonely eye do brim
Softly the day's light begins to dim
Melody lingers on the velvet breeze
Old memories the gentle music tease
Melancholy the evening music seems
Sung for me in my meandering dreams
The night birds gather now to call
And my fairies retreat behind that magic wall
Melancholy seems a poem in minor key
And I write of how it always speaks to me......
5/25/14
Listening to this haunting refrain
Reminds me of a walk in the rain
Can hear the raindrops as they fall
Stretching my legs I am no longer small
Faster I walk through my valley of dreams
Getting wet as the roads turn to streams
Splashing through memories held fast
Letting them go releasing troubles at last
The haunting refrain stays in my ears
Humming it quietly I lose my fears
Goodbye to loneliness am whole again
Thanks to the refrain and the pouring rain.
Inspired by the music .... Clair de Lune
Penned 25/5/2014
Sharp pain sliced like a red rose thorn,
prior to church on Sunday morn.
It felt as though insides were torn,
when she was born, when she was born.
No time to wait, she did not care,
she wailed real loud then gasped for air.
Her twin inside, they could not spare.
I named her Clair, I named her Clair.
The tears inside me never dried,
I felt despair, that one had died.
To give them life, I really tried,
but still I cried, but still I cried.
Copyright © 2013 By Caryl S. Muzzey
6/25/13
Sixth Place Winner ~ "Monotetra" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Kim Merryman
July 16, 2013
As ivory awakened the moon,...
exquisite music lulled me to sleep
..................................................
Contest: Crystalline
Sponsor: Rick Parise
(My mother's favorite classical piece)
10cc’s “I’m not in love” was playing
And our bodies were gently swaying
Meaningless words because we were in love
I was the hand and Clair was the glove
Our bodies moved together as if we were one
Still together long after the song was done
Our lips came together our hands caressed
Swaying to the music our bodies tight pressed
Clair and I at the disco kissing in the dark
Later under the moon we made love in the park
Governess of endless flowing tides
Ancient Orb that mystifies
Dusty ochre, bright hot white
Cycling and glowing with borrowed light
Cratered desolate dusty reflector,
Yet invoking your own haunting specter
Revealing all when heavily laden
Ebony cloaking when waning maiden
Luminous shafts caress and bathe
The supple skin of lover’s raves
Wondrous wishing talisman bold
Wide-eyed children cup and hold
Your gleaming form within outstretched hands
All tiny grains of billowing sand
Haunting compass; true and right
For countless seaman through the night
Ageless past and endless tomorrows
Stalwart celestial illuminations borrowed
Rest well within your firmament high
From darkest sable to lapis lazuli
Grace us again in coming night
With opaque splashes
Of
Perfect
Moonlight
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