I am the moon chasing the sun,
I am the stars hiding in your light.
I am the crack in concrete walls,
I am the love a poet hides from sight.
I am the moon caught in orbit,
I am the night that chases sunset,
I am the bow that Cupid strung,
I am the bell never to be rung.
I am the moon ever secret,
I am the blush spreading unbidden.
I am the question, the regret,
I am the only thing kept hidden.
I am the moon,
and I am sorry.
tiny stars
are pin pricks
in a gray-green
gloaming
and we see
a maiden with
sleek, dark, bobbed hair
sitting atop
a lake -
her billowed
long burgundy gown
f l o w i n g
like the swan
attached by a leash
to the girl’s
slender fingers
its loveliness
reflects in
aqua water
the moon
is a long white sliver
slicing through
the young maid’s gown
like an unusually
large parenthesis mark
half-caressing her
in twilight’s
enchantment
Oh, bright moon
of grace -
glide along with her
as the white swan
slides besides her
guiding her
through this night
of tranquil
delight
The autumn silver moonlight is a delight
While winds whisper secrets to ponder
Inviting raptors to hunt for prey at night
Mirrored reflections upon the river in white
As nocturnal scavengers come out to wander
The autumn silver moonlight is a delight
Cries and screeches echo from their plight
High up in a barren tree nests a young condor
Inviting raptors to hunt for prey at night
Seeing moving shadows can be a fright
The creatures out to hunt and conquer
The autumn sliver moonlight is a delight
Owls soar along the riverbank in flight
Curiosity evokes a vulnerable responder
Inviting raptors to hunt for prey at night
Dawn now quiets as some lost their fight
The cries and sounds fade in yonder
The autumn silver moonlight is a delight
Inviting raptors to hunt for prey at night
In autumn’s darkening eventide
The skyline brings lustre to one's eyes
When the sun has slipped away from sight
The sky is a picturesque delight.
Autumn moon shines in colourful displays
Of red, orange, silver or golden rays
In moonlight one's negative thoughts blow
Forgetting one's sorrows and their woe.
Trees grace the admirable Selene
In serene, silhouette they are seen
As stately they do stand in tableau
Against the radiant moonbeam show.
In ethereal nightly gloaming
Lovers everywhere come roaming
Enjoying moon’s celestial rapture
Sweet scented with late blooming Aster.
The Star keeps chasing the Moon,
while the Moon longs for the Sun.
The Sun’s fire burns the Moon mercilessly,
and the heat of that wounded Moon
falls upon the star, crushing it in silence.
And somewhere, in a room darker than the night,
Destiny writes this story with an unforgiving hand—
a story where the brightest light of Love
still cannot erase the darkness.
Moonlight is shining
But everything is dark
How do I find my way
The moon is shining
In elegant white
That's me I want someday.
But did I miss myself
Did I miss her face
I don't know how
We aspire to inspire
When it's tomorrow.
You find comfort in the darkness left in my wake
As the moonlight soothes your weary soul
Not too much just a gentle touch
A reminder you’re never alone
Something you could never find in me
My touch burning and unforgiving
Always too much
But that softness you always fall to once I’m gone isn’t what you think
It’s not some knight in shining armor
It’s me
A far away version where I can’t cause you harm
When my love won’t be too much
So you can sing your heart to me under a false name
And scream your curses at me by day
But I will be there to hold you under my sisters name
cosmic lullaby
an untranslatable sight -
wrapped in the moonlight
The Dark Moon
The garden holds its breath.
The gate has misplaced its shape.
Beyond it, the dam keeps only
the stars that have fallen in.
The Young Moon
A sliver of moon silhouettes
In the dark branches of the gums
enough to find the washing line,
my hand against the rail.
The White Moon
Each night it finds more of the yard:
the cracked birdbath, the pail beneath the tap,
the chair you left facing the creek.
Each morning, less of me remains
at the window.
For several nights, nowhere is dark enough—
the cup on the sill, the unlatched gate,
the possum’s startled eyes
burning in the grevillea.
The Old Moon
The brightness withdraws:
first from the water, then the fence,
then the chair, which becomes
only a chair again.
Above the roof, one pale hook
unfastens itself from the dark.
I close the curtain
without looking back.
Minty moonlight
crackles like bug juice
under waxen stars
that sing with wrath.
Summer suns die
as Autumn tickles
ice cream nomads
with ribbons of lice.
Mon amour
it’s you
I adore
Moonstruck—
I am over
the moon
for you
Will moonlight
delight
be ours
tonight?
Moon ami
shower me
with beams
of dreams—
rays
that will
keep me
amazed
as I take
a chance
on romance
Writtem: September 30th, 2026, for This Week's Poetry Challenge: Moonlight
***************
Moonlight sifts through the sleepless trees,
silvering shadows that refuse to sleep;
it lays a pale hand upon the seas,
and wakes old promises from the deep.
The moon hangs low, a lantern of bone,
while windows gather its ghostly flame;
each room becomes a world of its own,
where nothing forgotten forgets its name.
I walk where the midnight grasses lean,
listening close to the hush of the earth;
the dark is not empty, but in-between—
a cradle where vanished things come to birth.
Perhaps the moon knows what we conceal,
the names we bury beneath our breath;
perhaps its light does not make us heal,
but teaches the heart how to live with death.
And when dawn loosens the night from the sky,
and moonlight fades like a whispered prayer,
I will still carry its silver nearby—
a small, silent star I can find anywhere.
I hear it whisper through the night.
Dry leaves crunch where moon-pale shadows grow.
I lean toward what it keeps beyond my sight.
The moon lies caught in tarnished, shifting light;
A thin wind threads the rusted leaves below.
I hear it whisper through the night.
A moth worries the glass with dusted flight;
Its powdery wings disturb a muted glow.
I lean toward what it keeps beyond my sight.
Behind the glass, a narrow path burns bright;
Though no path runs beneath the branches’ glow,
I hear it whisper through the night.
The face within looks back—not quite aright;
Its hand lifts slower than it ought to go.
I lean toward what it keeps beyond my sight.
Dry leaves crunch beneath my feet at night;
The garden holds one secret from long ago.
I hear it whisper through the night;
I lean toward what it keeps beyond my sight.
I Looked Up Toward the Sky
There's only Half a Moon, Why?
Where's the Rest of Her
Maybe it's Lunar
Some Meteorlogical Thing
A Meteorite?
Now What Shall We Do?
Looks Like Someone Broke the Moon
How Shall We Fix it?
Use a Giant Bandaid?
Taken by a Rocket Ship?
By the Astronauts?
Landing on the Moon
The Astronauts put it on
Fixing her Boo Boo
What About Landscape?
Maybe we'll Rebuild the Moon
Put Back what's Broke
Once Beautiful Place
Now the Moon has Half a Face
Nice at any Rate
I can Fix The Moon
I will get a Long Ladder
Go and Spackle Her
I'm no Genius Yet
I Know when she's Fooling and
It's a Lunar Thing
Maybe Over Time
Luna will go and Heal Up
Then she will be Full
I Waited a Month
It Rained Night of Full Moon
Nothing could I See
A Few Nights Later
When the Clouds had Cleared Away
Moon Came out to Play
She Looked Full that Night
She had Healed Up Alright
Now she Rules the Sky
Copyright ©? Jeff W. Watson, September 29, 2026
soft glowing moonlight
white blossoms amid sweet scents
moon garden wakens
Moon Categories
Definition | What is Moon in Poetry?
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satellite, pumpkin, crescent, celestial body, heavenly body, half moon, planetoid, full moon, new moon, old moon, orb of night, quarter moon, daydream, yearn, pine, idle, mope, languish, waste time,