Time won’t stop until I drop
In my bed again
Meet me at the staircase top
Lend a helping hand
I can’t stay for long, you know
Time is running fast
I just came to say hello
Lost for words, at last
In this place there's lack of space
Sitting on the bed
I can’t see your smiling face
Snow falls in my head
Melting down far too slow
Then the clock stroke two
Its about time to go
Nothing more to do.
The moon was high, the wind did cry
As shadows danced in flight,
She wandered far beneath the sky
On that cold autumn night.
In twilight's silhouette I rock my mind to sleep
An effort to release me to a slumber so deep
The mystique of dreams unfolds in the night
A canvas peacefully painted in the faint moonlight
Far-reaching sensations in a hypnotic trance
Settle into serenity after light’s last glance
Counting grains of white sand as time in retreat
Next to sweeping fields full of golden wheat
Light-hearted reality sways in the breeze
My relaxed mind drifts through nocturnal seas
Paying homage to the effort it took to get here
Relinquishing power to an idyllic rest I hold dear
My mind striking a melodic chord in rhythmic tune
Dancing with the moon until sun’s morning boon
In the heart of Harlem's nocturnal embrace,
where the moon's silver threads interlace.
Streetlamps hum a jazz-filled tune,
underneath the city's ebony dune.
Brownstone whispers, history untold,
in the rhythm of the Harlem night's hold.
A symphony of footsteps on cobblestone,
each echo a tale, each shadow, a home.
Saxophone solos from an open window,
melodies that the city's heart knows.
Dancing notes in the summer air,
as dreams ascend the winding stair.
Voices rise from the stoops below,
poetry in the cadence, in the ebb and flow.
In the Harlem night, stars align,
a constellation of stories, yours and mine.
Countee's verses echo on these streets,
where the past and present gently meets.
Harlem's heartbeat, a rhythmic boon,
sung in the verses of a Harlem nocturne.
Over the pond’s lilies’ leaves,
morning dew settles glistening sleeves —
a covering to compliment the green,
a translucent, hint-of-blue ~ from a quivering
mist hanging, hushing everything, so all the doing
of sunrise dances must in-stasis remain…
~ or transfer by essence to the understanding
intuiting within — to find birds preen, not taking wing;
and trees upswing drying branches, delighted by wet dew.
All breathe the notes of summer’s ending nocturne
composed throughout the woods and, now, day upon day,
repeat that lullaby, trickling the scales as in a piano’s play
to accompany the year’s passing time, turning into autumn
with her blazing, flaming, dazzling, bejewelling
before Mother Nature deeply exhales — weeping dew
over all her gardened Beauty blooms — beginning
their fated wilting, falling, final, felt arias’ murmuring
the refrains life plants within, holding a promise of re-birth
to come past winter’s dominance, all frozen still
with a quiet sleeping peace — prelude to renewal…
to dawn’s Spring dances and the refreshing touch of dew.
She spoke of her love for him
to say how she wished him
to be her husband "Nocturne"
the romantic word.
Spoke sweetly against his lips
her kisses made
him see those days ahead
a love affair
to speak of through
the ages.
When the music
shilvered the timbers
and the percussions
moved to the rhythmn
the need of harmony
entasngles them to embrace
as kisses
sweetened
their lips.
the need to love.
a sweet romantic
togetherness.
moon's silhouette dances on the lake
blue water with floating lilies and lotus
lily pads covering the most of the water
glowing moonlight gives fresh impetus
crimson sky mingles with a dark shade
tall trees and bushes keep the darkness
fleeting clouds cascade down the woods
lotuses dazzle, lilies shining in likeness
little fairies dance in this luminous night
angels gather to play the celestial harp
viewers are amazed watching this scene
awaken are the birds to sing and chirp
in solitary night nature speaks with poise
we listen and witness this night's charm
the rivulet being composed and tranquil
we cherish and return to our lovers' arm
Orb of light in night flight,
specter aglow in onyx gown,
upon shimmering, icy-laden trees,
branches encapsulated winter’s freeze.
Indigo blanket ringed in haze
of the moon’s controlling gaze.
As the hares do romp and play,
amid the snow-capped winter days,
to dine on twigs and frozen buds
and unto dens full bellies run,
to huddle down as days be done;
‘neath ground of grass and straw to sleep.
As animal and man do dream,
of warmer climes, comforting scenes;
I scan the skies and thank the moon
as light-rays sing nocturnal tunes.
As those beams come ever near,
an old oak sheds an icy tear.
in stillness of dusk
tawny owl is heard hooting ~
a forest nocturne
Owl Haiku Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Robert James Liguori
Date written: 10/15/2021
Notes tumble freely
Guitar warms the twilight mist
Soft summer healing
Haiku written July 6/21
Savage sun
sinks
pausing hell
unlocking evening
**celestial chimes**
~~elusive echoes~~
((floating fragments))
***illuminated insects***
//meandering monads\\
&&musical magic&&
[solitary silence]
*^zodiacal zephyrs^*
Gentle darkness
reveals
the stars
eclipsed by
urban constellations
The Poetry Channel when open,
its wavelength sharp and clear
Searching for me as it calls for my voice,
in moments dark but dear
The Poetry Channel if distant, remote,
streaming above my thoughts
Transmitting in silence, antenna to blame,
whose frequency I’ve sought
The Poetry Channel with static tuned out,
its bandwidth framed in gold
Quiet by day, amplifying at night
—to broadcast time untold
(Dreamsleep: November, 2015)
Loveliest moment of my day,
when on my bed in red plaid
nightgown lay,
My calico jumps on my tummy
and places her soft head on my
chest.
She embraces my neck with one
tender paw.
I fall asleep in a world of wintry awe!
This is magical peace, I do proclaim.
This is my moment of ulimate serenity,
A duo,bound~ such a loving domain!
12/12/2020
Café Nuestra, Buenos Aires close to midnight,
heavy perfumed loud tango classic dressed of sight.
Am I willing to compromise myself in that situation,
two to tango after all, slow slow, quick quick, slow creation.
The slow consumes two beats and the quick steps one,
melancholy and romantic essence in a tied serious spun.
Out of nowhere a manicured hand crabbed my wrist,
gorgeous dark eyes with a rose in her hair, consist.
Closed position right hand on left shoulder,
my left in soft cushion of waist to hold her.
She is leading me by that beat beyond time and border,
giving me freedom to presume my stumble order.
Whistling and clapping laughter and pain,
sweating in pleasure by this love rhythm insane.
Nocturno de tango, she whispered in my ear,
pressing her body so tied for another gear.
Slow morning dawn exchanges the light of Moon,
and we walking to a near cafe opening soon.
Her english was very little, her spanish very fast,
and I wonder is she still leading me aghast.
Nocturne
Leagues of dreamy space
Lie behind the sparse stage of consciousness.
That is where
I'm headed now.
Turned my back upon the floodlights
Stepped behind the curtain
Where my Pegasus awaits
To gallop to the stars.
I hang upon the fringe;
The fringe that I can open/close.
I hear the symphony of spheres
That play a tune made from measures of silence.
No, I'm not afraid of darkness.
The darkness is my coat.
No, I'm not afraid to lose myself;
Myself is everywhere.
Related Poems