What sad provocation
with rain divination
what poverty bursts
this dity this verse
he held his hand high
did he not touch the sky
black middle night
these lines I did write
What purpose you ask
My mind is like cloth
Into this dispair
these thoughts do appear
Each star in the heavens
including the sun
atomic explosions
yes each every one
each star in the night sky
is really a sun
the distance makes little
yes each everyone
Solar mists of hidden time
the planets a roving
the meteors climb
black night space
surrounds this space
and still we have the hidden face
black matter still unknown
when will we learn of your hidden thrown
Blue moon last night peeked from the clouds
Smoky, blue, ghost whisps moved just right
Let it shine bright, close out of shrouds
Blue moon last night peeked from the clouds
For this gift to see I am proud
Gift was gentle, eager soul took flight
Blue moon last night peeked from the clouds
Smoky, blue, ghost whisps moved just right
(First attempt at the style of Triolet.)(My poem "Opportunity" explains about the term "Blue
Moon".)
The London night is peppered with a thousand tiny stars
But never with the silver milky way
We've sprinkled ghostly glow-worms to make safer roads for cars
And lost the finest sights of yesterday
I'd have to move one hundred miles to see one million lights
And bask beneath the theatre of those dark departed nights
When I was young my Father worked a few weeks in Japan
And brought me a reflecting telescope
I turned my gazing skyward and saw worlds untouched by man
Which filled a childish mind with dreams and hope
But now for city children there aren't stars on winter nights
They're lost inside the overflow of closer manmade lights
Each year I'm driven farther to observe amazing scenes
Which man has seen for all his years on Earth
The time is fast approaching when we will not have the means
To show our children what the night is worth
So if you have the fortune to live far from wasteful lights
Take time to drink the beauty of your deep black star-drenched nights
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