Haunted
See! He trails his toes
Through the long streaks of moonlight,
And the nails of his fingers glitter:
They claw and flash among the tree-tops.
His lips suck at my open window,
And his breath creeps about my body
And lies in pools under my knees.
I can see his mouth sway and wobble,
Sticking itself against the window-jambs,
But the moonlight is bright on the floor,
Without a shadow.
Hark! a hare is strangling in the forest,
And the wind tears a shutter from the wall.
poem by Amy Lowell
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Related quotes
Moonlight river.
moonlight river the eyes are shineing bright.
moonlight river love her with all you might.
moonlight river the darkness is falling.
moonligh river is there such thing off morning.
moonlight river makes my head sway.
moonlight river voice off the ocean on a sand beach bay.
moonlight river i think off her night and day.
moonlight river bring her back to me today.
moonlight river the star's are shineing bright.
moonlight river she is back with such delight.
moonlight river never let her go.
moonlight river tell her i love her so.
moolight river tear's in her eye.
moonlight river why did i have to die.
poem by Neil Derek Singleton
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Opening A New Window
come to my room
let us open a new window
that opens to another window
look at my face
and hold the side of my body
i will caress your hair with my hands
hold your body softly as a wind holds a feather
my fingers shall travel from the tips of your hair
down to the last tips of the toes of your feet
let us be happy, let us try opening another window
let us see the other windows hidden from our eyes.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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What A Little Moonlight Can Do
(h. woods)
Ooh, what a little moonlight can do
Ooh, what a little moonlight can do to you
Youre in love
Your hearts a flutter
And all day long you only shutter
cause your poor tongue
Just wont utter the words I love you
Ooh, what a little moonlight can do
Wait a while
till the little moonbeams comes peeking through
You get bold
You cant resist him
All you say
When you kissed him is
Ooh, what a little moonlight can do
song performed by by Diana Ross
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Absence
My cup is empty to-night,
Cold and dry are its sides,
Chilled by the wind from the open window.
Empty and void, it sparkles white in the moonlight.
The room is filled with the strange scent
Of wistaria blossoms.
They sway in the moon's radiance
And tap against the wall.
But the cup of my heart is still,
And cold, and empty.
When you come, it brims
Red and trembling with blood,
Heart's blood for your drinking;
To fill your mouth with love
And the bitter-sweet taste of a soul.
poem by Amy Lowell
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She used to drag her mattress besider her low window and lie awake for a long while, vibrating with excitement, as a machine vibrates from speed. Life rushed in upon her through that window - or so it seemed. In reality, of course, life rushes from within, not from without. There is no work of art so big or so beautiful that is was not once all contained in some youthful body, like this one which lay on the floor in the moonlight, pulsing with ardor and anticipation.
quote by Willa Cather
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Under Cover of Night
To slip into your shadow under cover of night.
To follow your footsteps, your shadow at the window.
That shadow at the window is you and no one else;
it's you.
Do not open that window behind whose curtains you're moving.
Shut your eyes.
I'd like to shut them with my lips.
But the window opens and the breeze, the breeze
which strangely balances flame and flag surrounds my escape
with its cloak.
The window opens: it's not you.
I knew it all along.
poem by Robert Desnos
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She used to drag her mattress besider her low window and lie awake for a long while, vibrating with excitement, as a machine vibrates from speed. Life rushed in upon her through that window - or so it seemed. In reality, of course, life rushes from within, not from without. There is no work of art so big or so beautiful that is was not once all contained in some youthful body, like this one which lay on the floor in the moonlight, pulsing with ardor and anticipation.
Willa Cather in The Song of the Lark
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Loose Shutter
i am nothing more
than the loose shutter,
banging against the window
of a foreclosed house...
but the shutter,
the wind that blows it,
the window, and even
the empty rooms...
all have faces,
all have names!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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A Little Ghost
The moonlight flutters from the sky
To meet her at the door,
A little ghost, whose steps have passed
Across the creaking floor.
And rustling vines that lightly tap
Against the window-pane,
Throw shadows on the white-washed walls
To blot them out again.
The moonlight leads her as she goes
Across a narrow plain,
By all the old, familiar ways
That know her steps again.
And through the scrub it leads her on
And brings her to the creek,
But by the broken dam she stops
And seems as she would speak.
She moves her lips, but not a sound
Ripples the silent air;
She wrings her little hands, ah, me!
The sadness of despair!
While overhead the black-duck's wing
Cuts like a flash upon
The startled air, that scarcely shrinks
Ere he afar is gone.
And curlews wake, and wailing cry
Cur-lew! cur-lew! cur-lew!
Till all the Bush, with nameless dread
Is pulsing through and through.
The moonlight leads her back again
And leaves her at the door,
A little ghost whose steps have passed
Across the creaking floor.
poem by Dame Mary Gilmore
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The Haunted Chamber. (Birds Of Passage. Flight The Third)
Each heart has its haunted chamber,
Where the silent moonlight falls!
On the floor are mysterious footsteps,
There are whispers along the walls!
And mine at times is haunted
By phantoms of the Past
As motionless as shadows
By the silent moonlight cast.
A form sits by the window,
That is not seen by day,
For as soon as the dawn approaches
It vanishes away.
It sits there in the moonlight
Itself as pale and still,
And points with its airy finger
Across the window-sill.
Without before the window,
There stands a gloomy pine,
Whose boughs wave upward and downward
As wave these thoughts of mine.
And underneath its branches
Is the grave of a little child,
Who died upon life's threshold,
And never wept nor smiled.
What are ye, O pallid phantoms!
That haunt my troubled brain?
That vanish when day approaches,
And at night return again?
What are ye, O pallid phantoms!
But the statues without breath,
That stand on the bridge overarching
The silent river of death?
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Moonlight Woman
Her long black hair flowing
Eyes that look through you
Hands that show no labour
A heart that is ever so true
Moonlight Woman
She creeps in the back door
All for a discreet embrace
Her lips are soft and ready
The look of lust on her face
Moonlight Woman
She wants to be held so close
Two giggles you here at night
Such a twisted sort of love
But she makes everything right
Moonlight Woman
poem by Suelynn Walters
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The Return
The grass was gray with the moonlit dew,
The stones were white as I came through;
I came down the path by the thirteen yews,
Through the blocks of shade that the moonlight hews.
And when I came to the high lych-gate
I waited awhile where the corpses wait;
Then I came down the road where the moonlight lay
Like the fallen ghost of the light of day.
The bats shrieked high in their zigzag flight,
The owls' spread wings were quiet and white,
The wind and the poplar gave sigh for sigh,
And all about were the rustling shy
Little live creatures that love the night -
Little wild creatures timid and free.
I passed, and they were not afraid of me.
It was over the meadow and down the lane
The way to come to my house again:
Through the wood where the lovers talk,
And the ghosts, they say, get leave to walk.
I wore the clothes that we all must wear,
And no one saw me walking there,
No one saw my pale feet pass
By my garden path to my garden grass.
My garden was hung with the veil of spring -
Plum-tree and pear-tree blossoming;
It lay in the moon's cold sheet of light
In garlands and silence, wondrous and white
As a dead bride decked for her burying.
Then I saw the face of my house
Held close in the arms of the blossomed boughs:
I leaned my face to the window bright
To feel if the heart of my house beat right.
The firelight hung it with fitful gold;
It was warm as the house of the dead is cold.
I saw the settles, the candles tall,
The black-faced presses against the wall,
Polished beechwood and shining brass,
The gleam of china, the glitter of glass,
All the little things that were home to me -
Everything as it used to be.
Then I said, 'The fire of life still burns,
And I have returned whence none returns:
I will warm my hands where the fire is lit,
I will warm my heart in the heart of it!'
So I called aloud to the one within:
'Open, open, and let me in!
Let me in to the fire and the light -
It is very cold out here in the night!'
There was never a stir or an answering breath -
Only a silence as deep as death.
Then I beat on the window, and called, and cried.
No one heard me, and none replied.
The golden silence lay warm and deep,
And I wept as the dead, forgotten, weep;
And there was no one to hear or see -
To comfort me, to have pity on me.
But deep in the silence something stirred -
Something that had not seen or heard -
And two drew near to the window-pane,
Kissed in the moonlight and kissed again,
And looked, through my face, to the moon-shroud, spread
Over the garlanded garden bed;
And--'How ghostly the moonlight is!' she said.
Back through the garden, the wood, the lane,
I came to mine own place again.
I wore the garments we all must wear,
And no one saw me walking there.
No one heard my thin feet pass
Through the white of the stones and the gray of the grass,
Along the path where the moonlight hews
Slabs of shadow for thirteen yews.
In the hollow where drifted dreams lie deep
It is good to sleep: it was good to sleep:
But my bed has grown cold with the drip of the dew,
And I cannot sleep as I used to do.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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The Window
All night long, by a distant bell,
The passing hours were notched
On the dark, while her breathing rose and fell,
And the spark of life I watched
In her face was glowing or fading, -- who could tell? --
And the open window of the room,
With a flare of yellow light,
Was peering out into the gloom,
Like an eye that searched the night.
Oh, what do you see in the dark, little window, and why do you fear?
"I see that the garden is crowded with creeping forms of fear:
Little white ghosts in the locust-tree, that wave in the night-wind's breath,
And low in the leafy laurels the larking shadow of death."
Sweet, clear notes of a waking bird
Told of the passing away
Of the dark, -- and my darling may have heard;
For she smiled in her sleep, while the ray
Of the rising dawn spoke joy without a word,
Till the splendor born in the east outburned
The yellow lamplight, pale and thin,
And the open window slowly turned
To the eye of the morning, looking in.
Oh, what do you see in the room, little window, that makes you so bright?
"I see that a child is asleep on her pillow, soft and white,
With the rose of life on her tips, and the breath of life in her breast,
And the arms of God around her as she quietly takes her rest."
poem by Henry Van Dyke
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The Mounlight Dance
The moonlight dance
I will dance with the mooninthe sky
Moonlight dance
Moonlight dance
I am crazy also about the moonlight dance
And I am also crazy about the moon
Also I believe that I am falling in love with the moon
While I am dancing the moonlight dance
Moonlight
I find you amazing
And you shine so bright inthe sky
Moonlight dance
Moonlight dance
Moon it is getting late
And soon it will be time for us to go to sleep
Moonlight dance
Moonlight dance
It is now time to say good night to each other
Because we need to sleep
And I need to go home now
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Moonlight Dance
The moonlight dance
I will dance with the mooninthe sky
Moonlight dance
Moonlight dance
I am crazy also about the moonlight dance
And I am also crazy about the moon
Also I believe that I am falling in love with the moon
While I am dancing the moonlight dance
Moonlight
I find you amazing
And you shine so bright inthe sky
Moonlight dance
Moonlight dance
Moon it is getting late
And soon it will be time for us to go to sleep
Moonlight dance
Moonlight dance
It is now time to say good night to each other
Because we need to sleep
And I need to go home now
poem by Aldo Kraas
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Gala
Gala hangs from the window frame
Dressed in black and white
Her face is colourless
In the moonlight
She turns around and her lips move
But the words just drop away
She leans on the back of a chair
And her arms begin to sway
She and I can hear voices
Talking in the room next door
Saying things we used to say
That we cant believe in any more
Weve seen too many castles crumble
Made too many innocent mistakes
Who could have known that one house
Could hold so much heartbreak?
And then the clockbell rings
The wind blows in -
Gala makes for the door.
Her eyes blaze
And her hands are shaking
She opens her mouth and roars!
Gala doesnt want, gala doesnt need
She claws at her face
With her nails till it bleeds
She runs down the stairs
In her poor bare-feet
Shes too woman to cry or go down on her knees
Then her mother is there
And her voice is soft
She pulls gala close
She soothes galas cuts
And gently chides
And gala knows...
That gala shouldnt worry
She neednt be afraid
Because there are sailors on the sea tonight
In ships that God made
Look! they cast out the line
With a heave two-three-four
And they sing as they pull
Our lost souls aboard
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Gala
Gala hangs from the window frame
Dressed in black and white
Her face is colourless
In the moonlight
She turns around and her lips move
But the words just drop away
She leans on the back of a chair
And her arms begin to sway
She and I can hear voices
Talking in the room next door
Saying things we used to say
That we cant believe in any more
Weve seen too many castles crumble
Made too many innocent mistakes
Who could have known that one house
Could hold so much heartbreak?
And then the clockbell rings
The wind blows in -
Gala makes for the door.
Her eyes blaze
And her hands are shaking
She opens her mouth and roars!
Gala doesnt want, gala doesnt need
She claws at her face
With her nails till it bleeds
She runs down the stairs
In her poor bare-feet
Shes too woman to cry or go down on her knees
Then her mother is there
And her voice is soft
She pulls gala close
She soothes galas cuts
And gently chides
And gala knows...
That gala shouldnt worry
She neednt be afraid
Because there are sailors on the sea tonight
In ships that God made
Look! they cast out the line
With a heave two-three-four
And they sing as they pull
Our lost souls aboard
song performed by by Waterboys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mr. Moonlight
Mr. moonlight
You came to me one summernight and from your beam you made my dream,
And from the world you sent my girl and from above you sent us love,
And now she's mine.
I think you're fine 'cause we love you, mr. moonlight.
Mr. moonlight, come again please, here i am on my knees,
Begging if you please, and the nights you don't come my way.
I'll pray and pray more each day, 'cause we love you, mr. moonlight,
Mr. moonlight.
song performed by by Beatles
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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In My Room The Window Is Open
in my room the window is open
as i sleep tonight
you shall be the moon
as i wait for your shining light
in my room the window is open
come tonight
wrap me with the warmth of the
fullness of your moonlight
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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429
in my room the window is open
as i sleep tonight
you shall be the moon
as i wait for your shining light
in my room the window is open
come tonight
wrap me with the warmth of the
fullness of your moonlight
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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