Mooning Poems - Poems about Mooning

I knew a young girl just a pretty face who lost her mind in outer space with a celestial body decidedly racy out of this world but totally spacey not quite the brightest light it's true (but what a view) and yet when gazing at the moon turned loony... a space cadet and 'twas the lunar orb (waxing, waning, new or blue) of that there's no doubt whose gravitational pull simply...

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Just mooning and buffooning Covertly stepping behind the veil Dancing and prancing under the new moon Burning candles and chanting, leaving no trail Dark, unscrupulous wishes coming soon Now, laughing and frolicking under the full moon When you should be wishing upon a star Daytime you appear as an angel but when night falls, you're a goon My, what a selfish, controlling...

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SUNSET MOONING… Descending, the ever full Sun Reflected its golden fulfillment While a waxing moon challenged The assured fulfillment of its time:- Image this if you can: Waxing moon—challenging the always Full sun—rising and setting each day; What a powerful allegorical message Paved out of this journey home To chat and relax on the day’s challenges Of wishful hope and the stability of faith:- Canvassing it all...

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that lunar night glowed until it stopped mooning so then the day starts sad I looked at myself in the mirror and it wasn't even me sometimes I start by accident to peel paint off a surface it's a strange obsession an agony and only stops when you ruin the wall forever or the mobile the skin the soul...

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There's a soft glow about her Bardic feelings she does stir She waxes and wanes with time Has changing moods in night mime Sometimes, she's bright and happy Sometimes, gloomy and snappy Her humour affects the seas High tides and low tides do tease Her strength is seen in her scars She shines bright among the stars Enchanting like a woman The moon is nature’s lumen* 08.03.2021 *Lumen:...

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Driving through town just around noon All my friends were acting like loons Peoples jaw dropped As they stood at the bus stop They had just seen a full "moon"...

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Trotting along;fighting death – with delaying techniques. Chemo had failed. Weeping Ashoka, how do I name you differently ? I may not see you again. I am hurt, very badly. Absolutely rooted, firmly in autumn. My leaves were falling. Pushing back the interface between smiles and tears; the trespasser goes to moon. It was traditional, garlanding the poet- who had killed his muse. Satish Verma...

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Let's see, my oldest son was about seven years old. The boys had to ride a bus to school, which my oldest did not do well. He has this way about him, that tends to have women authoritative figures letting him off the hook, when he's been naughty. I always thought it...

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