The Moon Poems - Poems about The Moon

S-taying U-p S-ometimes A-ll N-ight E-levates S-oul's C-ontemplation A-s L-ife A-llows N-egativity T-o E-vaporate ©bfa052125 Monocrostic (Birthday of Susan Escalante)...

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If the stars could speak, They would speak of only your light, How it dips and peaks , In its celestial respite. If the stars could wonder, They would wonder of only your touch, How it echoes like thunder, And causes Saturn to blush. If the stars could bleed, They would bleed for only your dreams, That call to anguish the pleads, Of Venus to...

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"Someday, somewhere - anywhere, unfailingly, you'll find yourself, and that, and only that, can be the happiest or bitterest hour of your life." ~ Pablo Neruda I sail through citrine waves of the moon’s pulse, weaving my spark from sea-stars numb to the blaze of a dream-lashed gaze ~ mute to the masked...

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If the moon should disappear, And the sea forget her sway, Would you still walk beside me, When the stars have lost their way? Would the tides grow still and hollow, Would the cliffs no longer sing? Would the hush of moonless midnight Steal the silver from the spring? Ocean tides, so long enchanted, Whisper dreams I cannot keep— They retreat with grace unspoken To the...

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I remember the look in your eye your voice your smile your touch your kiss I remember like it was yesterday and suddenly how you had to go your way AP: Honorable Mention 2025...

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Over the mountain Over the sky On the moon Joy will lie But look all around The friends are not there At the emptiness, you stare The loneliness you cannot bear You jump off the ground You never believe what you found You got what you wanted to be left alone But You cry as your feet touch the...

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Who planted this notorious fuchsia tree? She is alive and glowing, said the moon with glee. Shining night stars looked down and gave the tree a nod. They loved her color; felt it was not at all odd. We see trees like this all the time in May one lied. The harvest moon rolled his eyes and moved up the...

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cold moon… trouble me not with your naked eye dark tears of light you liquefy and bathe in blood slow western crawl capture breath upon god’s wall a winter’s river sweet black as stone in me your darkness flows alone dispossession life is war an unsound calm defines your core so out of place we wander wane the scent of...

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No moment ever felt this peaceful, Like the one I'd often meet. Almost daily, Sun and Moon's impossible meet. When you, like the Sun, were so bright, And I, like the Moon, craved your light. My presence was incomplete without yours. But for one thing! Moon only needed Sun's light in darkness, But I wanted yours in every light. Like the fate of...

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And perhaps the blood had to flow like a red river under the moon, Perhaps the skin had to open like a flower in a storm, To let the soul break free from the grip of silent shadows, I do not blame the hands that painted a silent story on the body. But how do I tell the one...

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Phases of Moon on inscription round the Earth on revolution will be marvelous memento . Just a simple manifesto. Moon is our nearest neighbour. Closest companion of ours. ...

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Leave the ground to fly upward forever a quintillion atoms blasting astray It’s April 20, Crack open an Easter egg be careful not to drop, if a Fabergé Celebrate Apollo 16, NASA’s high point also light a candle down Columbine way Luna doesn’t judge beyond her influence so can’t be complicit in the price we pay Deepwater...

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You adore the moon only when it is full and bright across the endless expanse of the night sky. That is why I fear your love, like a storm approaching slowly, yet surely, in its silence. Who can tell me that you will continue to love my shadows, when my soul is blue and heavy, when I do not shine under...

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I’d leave a small cigar box, cracked, showing faint splinters, buried where no one can touch it or twist it. Inside: a music amp shaped like my ribcage, wound with the ache of fifteen years spent trying to be softer than the world allowed. A torn page from a notebook no one read, scribbled with dreams I wasn’t brave enough to...

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Lunar alabaster gleams beneath the void The infant’s mind is carved in stone Neural patterns branch like frost across the barren surface Face recognition etched in marble relief The first spark of knowing Sound waves frozen into rings echo mother's silent song Small fingertip grooves map first touch sensation then the human footprints vanish, art remains...

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