Long Paper moon Poems
Long Paper moon Poems. Below are the most popular long Paper moon by PoetrySoup Members. You can search for long Paper moon poems by poem length and keyword.
I wished upon a paper moon
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I wished upon a paper moon
and fell among the stars
Was whisked away to somewhere good
a place just where you are
Along a winding riverbed
below a willow tree
With fireflies to light the way,
a path for you and me
We laughed as if the world were new
amazed within this scene
Of lily pads and dragonflies
the two of us did dream
Holding hands and skipping stones
the ripples came to shore
Magically they disappeared
as we called out for more
Reflections on the water played
in wavering design
You pointed to the middle
where a heart shape you did find
And then you whispered in my ear
my wish had now come true
Out here beneath this paper moon
in love, just me and you
Good night Soupers
Have a great weekend
At the edge of evening,
on a late-summer night,
the garden is pretending
it will last forever.
Lilies lift their pale trumpets
through the violet hush;
roses crowd around
the knees of two girls in white.
They bend over
their paper-moon lanterns,
shielding the wicks,
watching them flicker gold.
Do you remember those days
when life was so simple,
when dreams seemed real,
our faces aglow in the light?
How night arrives
as it always does,
quietly, leaf by leaf,
darkening the garden around us.
Still, the lanterns remain—
each one a little kept summer,
each one saying
not nothing will be lost,
but carry this:
there is enough light
for the next remembered step—
two small shadows
following the lanterns
home.
Soot on LA highway signs. Billboard of you,
a real estate agent. All endeavor slides
toward inertia, extinction, forgetfulness.
It’s very tropical. Vegetation invades
the house unless constant inputs of joy
apply. The scientist in you feels the
great ape in you. The great ape feels
death growing wide. What about work?
I devote my present to my future existence.
In what way, in what sense
does one continue to resist. As
a dessicated cell, a mole of elements,
an ancient’s aura, a daguerreotype-like
shadow on a sidewalk, persistent headache,
paleolithic herbivore, potential energy, will.
Some wake up and pray, say thanks for
another day. Others curse their luck, stale breath,
the very thought of the rosy dawn makes them ill.
Lonely as leaf fall.
Nature knows no pity or self-pity
according to antiquity, the roof soot of the city.
I admire fire, tools and ore. Agriculture.
Cities, empire. Trading and taking (war).
Numbers, counting, writing. Libraries, discoveries, zero.
And the single-minded universe
that’s only a paper moon
without your love.