Moon-bouncer
never high enough
to let go.
Focus each blessing,
Less stressing,
Cast our own spelling!
unhurried eve drifts
lune rises
kissed your memory
One strawberry sip,
tipsy Moon;
Summer’s set on fire.
from a big family
living to a ripe old age
lots of funerals
like child’s play
throwing up my arms
leaves landing
fairy lights
in jars of crystal
fantasy
LATE BLOOMER
sun highlights
the bod of oak bark -
Autumn knight
CLINGERS
won’t let go -
cling to puppy love,
its branches
CLEAVERS
cleaves to old
relationship vow -
storm shakes loose
LANDING
the leaves land
amidst the old maids’
bitterness
BRITTLE BONES
the children
jump in old gals’ laps
living loud
RING AROUND THE ROSIES
circle round
sing, “ashes…ashes…”
and fall down
LEARNING CURVE
life up there
in the lusty air
now seems strange
GONE WITH THE WIND
scattering
the old bats’ ashes
to the wind
REBORN
phoenix lands
a bitty wiser
and lighter
Lune poetry
I. Lune written in syllables - 3/5/3
II. Lune written in words - 3/5/3
I.
I woke up
from a head trip dream
or did I ...
II.
flight of imagination
the veil of sleep lingers
between two realms ...
_______________________
January 07, 2023
Poetry/Lune/Example
Copyright Protected, ID 01-1514-899-07
All Rights Reserved, 2023, Constance La France
I breathe as softly as a little bird
Like the robin did in Arnside Wood
Quick yet calm, who for some food would dare.
The view from Arnside Knot is broad and fair
The atmosphere is pure, we see trains chug
The Estuary of the Kent will never bore
Further South the Lune runs like old tears
Morecambe Bay endangers, how it floods
Behind the Pennines rise, the edges fierce
Dent is ancient, mobile phones won’t dare
To penetrate the music of its blood
Nor bring their tones to hurt the mad March hare
Hutton Roof , cathedral, how we stared
A gentle hand caressed my heart to good
Meek flowers grew in the cracks as safe,as pure
How my heart expands and I am glad
For mourning heals and I am no more sad
I breath as softly as a little bird
I tiptoe on the path the peace is sha
A glow in the dark,
lunar lights;
I can feel your smile.
It’s the little things
that move me
as I fall for you.
Time to turn your back;
They were wrong,
you write your own song.
Autumn speaks to me
Golden tones
Leaves are whispering
Blue skies arc
Bare branches appear
Winter’s bones
can we judge people
by their pets
do their pets love them
many times
pets teach us to love
lives too short
Edward J Ebbs - 10/22/2021
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