In The Virgins
You can't put in the ground swell of the organ
from the Christiansted, St.Croix, Anglican Church
behind the paratrooper's voice: 'Turned cop
after Vietnam. I made thirty jumps.'
Bells punish the dead street and pigeons lurch
from the stone belfry, opening their chutes,
circling until the rings of ringing stop.
'Salud!' The paratrooper's glass is raised.
The congregation rises to its feet
like a patrol, with scuffling shoes and boots,
repeating orders as the organ thumps:
'Praise Ye the Lord. The Lord's name be praised.'
You cannot hear, beyond the quiet harbor,
the breakers cannonading on the bruised
horizon, or the charter engines gunning for
Buck Island. The only war here is a war
of silence between blue sky and sea,
and just one voice, the marching choir's, is raised
to draft new conscripts with the ancient cry
of 'Onward, Christian Soldiers,' into pews
half-empty still, or like a glass, half-full.
Pinning itself to a cornice, a gull
hangs like a medal from the serge-blue sky.
Are these boats all? Is the blue water all?
The rocks surpliced with lace where they are moored,
dinghy, catamaran, and racing yawl,
nodding to the ground swell of 'Praise the Lord'?
Wesley and Watts, their evangelical light
lanced down the mine shafts to our chapel pew,
its beam gritted with motes of anthracite
that drifted on us in our chapel benches:
from God's slow-grinding mills in Lancashire,
ash on the dead mired in Flanders' trenches,
as a gray drizzle now defiles the view
of this blue harbor, framed in windows where
two yellow palm fronds, jerked by the wind's rain,
agree like horses' necks, and nodding bear,
slow as a hearse, a haze of tasseled rain,
and, as the weather changes in a child,
the paradisal day outside grows dark,
the yachts flutter like moths in a gray jar,
the martial voices fade in thunder, while
across the harbor, like a timid lure,
a rainbow casts its seven-colored arc.
Tonight, now Sunday has been put to rest.
Altar lights ride the black glass where the yachts
stiffly repeat themselves and phosphoresce
with every ripple - the wide parking-lots
of tidal affluence - and every mast
sways the night's dial as its needle veers
to find the station which is truly peace.
Like neon lasers shot across the bars
discos blast out the music of the spheres,
and, one by one, science infects the stars.
poem by Derek Walcott
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Related quotes
Maritime Poem
In the blue harbor of your eyes
Blow rains of melodious lights,
Dizzy suns and sails
Painting their voyage to endlessness.
In the blue harbor of your eyes
Is an open sea window,
And birds appear in the distance
Searching for islands still unborn.
In the blue harbor of your eyes
Snow falls in July.
Ships laden with turquoise
Spill over the sea and are not drowned.
In the blue harbor of your eyes
I run on the scattered rocks like a child
Breathing the fragrance of the sea
And return an exhausted bird.
In the blue harbor of your eyes
Stones sing in the night.
Who has hidden a thousand poems
In the closed book of your eyes?
If only, if only I were a sailor,
If only somebody'd give me a boat,
I would furl my sails each evening
In the blue harbor of your eyes.
poem by Nizar Qabbani
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A Little Peace
As I was walking slowly by
a church on Sunday morn
I could hear voices raised
in praise for the lord above.
The voices were sweet and soft,
but loud enough for the lord to hear,
as the praises they were singing
drifted through the air.
Not a single voice
was out of tune
as they sang out there.
When the voices went quiet,
a serine silence drifted down
over everything and everyone around.
God was answering their prayers
for a little peace everywhere today.
23 June 2007
poem by David Harris
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A day for....
An unsewn day rises from yesterdays dust
it's a new day to darn
a choice of many colors
Empty canvas
Or blank sheet
Awaits your brilliant mastery
What would love look like?
A blanket made of patches
A etching
Made eternal on stone or glass
Oh and lace
With its many holes..
Shapes of ovals
squares and hearts
cressent moons and stars
Or the beauty of nature
Streams, forests
Wind carved stones of sand
Rainbows formed from sun and mist of rain.
What would be in your heart?
As you watch the horizon..
The sky changes from dark
to blue and other hue
Red, orange and bettween
And twisted clouds with weightless flab.
And the blue of tomorrow
Awaits...
As it goes through....
The needle's eye.
poem by Howard Johnson
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Psalm 150
Praise the Lord of the morning
When the sun rises from its sleep
Praise the Lord for His excellent greatness
For His beauty makes me weep
Praise the Lord when the darkness falls
And the moon rises high above
Praise the Lord for His majestic glory
And His everlasting love
Praise the Lord in the winter
When the snow falls on the ground
Praise the Lord for His glorious presence
When we stand upon holy ground
Praise the Lord of the summer
When the days are warm and long
Praise the Lord for His magnificent splendor
And the saints shall sing a new song
Praise the Lord of the springtime
When the blossoms on the tree
Praise the Lord for His holiness
And for the Blood that set us free
Praise the Lord of the Autumn
When the leaves fall to the ground
Praise the Lord for His faithfulness
And that His grace abounds
Praise the Lord when your happy
And there's a smile upon your face
Praise the Lord for His mercy
And for His saving grace
Praise the Lord when you're in despair
And your pierced by a fiery dart
Praise the Lord for HIs loving kindness
That restores your broken heart
Praise the Lord with your last breath
As you lie upon your bed
Praise the Lord for His promises
To raise you from the dead
Praise the Lord for all eternity
As you gather around His throne
Praise the Lord for His incredible beauty
As you worship Him alone
Let trumpet, harp and timbrel praise
And dance before the King
Let all with breath praise the Lord
And with their voices sing
Hallelujah to the King of Kings
We worship and bow down
We sing to you forever more
And we will crown Him with many crowns
poem by Frank McEleny
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Baltic Fog Notes
Seven days all fog, all mist, and the turbines pounding through high seas.
I was a plaything, a rat’s neck in the teeth of a scuffling mastiff.
Fog and fog and no stars, sun, moon.
Then an afternoon in fjords, low-lying lands scrawled in granite languages on a gray sky,
A night harbor, blue dusk mountain shoulders against a night sky,
And a circle of lights blinking: Ninety thousand people here.
Among the Wednesday night thousands in goloshes and coats slickered for rain,
I learned how hungry I was for streets and people.
I would rather be water than anything else.
I saw a drive of salt fog and mist in the North Atlantic and an iceberg dusky as a cloud in the gray of morning.
And I saw the dream pools of fjords in Norway … and the scarf of dancing water on the rocks and over the edges of mountain shelves.
Bury me in a mountain graveyard in Norway.
Three tongues of water sing around it with snow from the mountains.
Bury me in the North Atlantic.
A fog there from Iceland will be a murmur in gray over me and a long deep wind sob always.
Bury me in an Illinois cornfield.
The blizzards loosen their pipe organ voluntaries in winter stubble and the spring rains and the fall rains bring letters from the sea.
poem by Carl Sandburg
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Blue Rain (Coming Down)
Silently I hear the sound of the blue rain coming down.
Its late tonight and I just saw you walking by.
Without one word of hello or goodbye.
Just one look at you with someone new,
And then I knew Id see you go around in the blue blue rain.
I didnt know one moment ago it could rain this way
You use to run straight to my arms now you turn away.
Oh I never knew such of feeling of blue.
Blue rain blue rain.
Blue rain.
Why did you make me love you than break my heart in two.
Then leave me alone here in the rain to cry for you.
Tomorrow will be filled with the lonely.blue rain.
Blue rain.blue rain.
I remember you all alone,walking on,
And crying,losing you,
In the blue blue rain.
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blue Rain
Silently i hear the sound of the blue rain coming down.
It's late tonight and i just saw you walking by.
Without one word of hello or goodbye.
Just one look at you with someone new,
And then i knew i'd see you go around in the blue blue rain.
I didn't know one moment ago it could rain this way
You use to run straight to my arms now you turn away.
Oh i never knew such of feeling of blue.
Blue rain blue rain.
Blue rain.
Why did you make me love you than break my heart in two.
Then leave me alone here in the rain to cry for you.
Tomorrow will be filled with the lonely.blue rain.
Blue rain.blue rain.
I remember you all alone,walking on,
And crying,losing you,
In the blue blue rain.
song performed by by Roy Orbison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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I wonder
I stood there waiting for his silent complaisance.
The blue birds sing in a small voice.
My moon hangs in the sky like burning ice.
In my embarrassment I have to look at the wood floor twice.
The lights all around us in the dark feel nice.
The wind blows the sea to the surface.
His gray suit has a most rugid appearance.
My long blue dress flows with his slow pace.
I find his words taking me to a different place.
Passion fills his beastlike face.
The stars up above us are like lace.
My heart really wants to give him a chance.
He holds me in his arms and begins to dance.
While I wonder if this is a real romance.
Blue Me
Blue me, blue me
Blue is the color
That fits best on me
Im blue
Just as blue as can be
Blue me, blue me
I cry
And I die
I lie awake at night
And I question why
Must it be
I can never be free
Blue me, blue me
My heart is heavy
But its empty inside
No one to love me
Or to lay down beside
Im blue
The queen of sorrow
Wears royal blue
My luck aint changin
Is it ever goin to
Im blue, oh Im blue
Why must I wear this robe of blue misery
Blue me, blue me
Ooh
This sad old feeling
Is breakin me down
No satisfaction with these blues hangin round
Lord, Im blue
Oh, Im so blue
Why cant I shake it tell me where will this end
When will I get out of this blue rut Im in
Oh, Im blue
Looks like the blues just took a liking to me
Blue me, blue me
Blue me, blue me
Blue is the color that fits best on me
Ooooh, Im blue
Im just as blue as can be
Blue me,
Blue me
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Letters
Still on the tower stood the vane,
A black yew gloomed the stagnant air,
I peered athwart the chancel pane
And saw the altar cold and bare.
A clog of lead was round my feet,
A band of pain across my brow;
"Cold altar, Heaven and earth shall meet
Before you hear my marriage vow."
I turned and hummed a bitter song
That mocked the wholesome human heart,
And then we met in wrath and wrong,
We met, but only met to part.
Full cold my greeting was and dry;
She faintly smiled, she hardly moved;
I saw with half-unconscious eye
She wore the colours I approved.
She took the little ivory chest,
With half a sigh she turned the key,
Then raised her head with lips comprest,
And gave my letters back to me.
And gave the trinkets and the rings,
My gifts, when gifts of mine could please;
As looks a father on the things
Of his dead son, I looked on these.
She told me all her friends had said;
I raged against the public liar;
She talked as if her love were dead,
But in my words were seeds of fire.
"No more of love; your sex is known:
I never will be twice deceived.
Henceforth I trust the man alone,
The woman cannot be believed.
Through slander, meanest spawn of Hell -
And woman's slander is the worst,
And you, whom once I loved so well,
Through you, my life will be accurst."
I spoke with heart, and heat and force,
I shook her breast with vague alarms -
Like torrents from a mountain's source
We rushed into each other's arms.
We parted: sweetly gleamed the stars,
And sweet the vapour-braided blue,
Low breezes fanned the belfry bars,
As homeward by the church I drew.
The very graves appeared to smile,
So fresh they rose in shadowed swells;
"Dark porch," I said, "and silent aisle,
There comes a sound of marriage bells."
poem by Alfred Lord Tennyson
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Ocean Mist, This One Blurs Me, Misty Eyed On The Beach
well here we are,
in the middle of this ocean
of our respective
existences,
you are on your own
now,
i sail too,
this trip of mine
we catch a
glimpse
of the coming rain, the clouds thickening
over the sea
the horizon blurring
with mists,
like cold smoke
rising from the ice
of our glass filled
with sparkling
wine
we are in this foggy
part of
our thinking
you puzzle me
i like to think some more
who can you be
now infected by
yours truly
writing poetry
as you hide
in the thick ocean mist
blue haze
above salt
reducing
visibility
let nature spray some more
mist
like perfume in her handkerchief
dim like some dead stars
and darken
this universe
obscure the moon
blur my senses
i will try
seeing you
and your shadow
sweet
to my expectancies
of a disciple
draining some thoughts
of your past
let the mist of ignorance
dissolve in sunshine
let the haze of our eyes
clear a little bit
with our touch
to the truth
suspend impression
like liquid in gas
pour more liquor
over cracked ice
so i can have a
good sense of
your blue mist
a vaporizer can do more
adding moisture
to the air we want
to breathe
these harsh times
rain in very fine drops;
drizzle, do not fizzle
diffuse yourself finely
like a jet of water
replacing what humanity
lost
let us moisten with mist
this dryness of our
own distant worlds
ocean mist
i have a name, it is put alive
in the serving of
ice cubes on clear glass
soon hear the voices
of cracks
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Rainbow drizzle
I seldom see
those like you or me
that is why
we're meant to be
Playing our banjos
on the roof
Putting nail varnish
on a horses hoof
Rainbow drizzle
Red green and blue
I like me
I like you
Let's always stay young
having fun
we'll fly away
we'll touch the sun
When the snow falls
We'll make snowmen
Take the day off work
We'll stay out till ten
Rainbow drizzle
Red green and blue
I like me
I like you
Let's do cartwheels
In the rain
I'll pick some daisies
I'll make you a chain
Hold my hands and we'll spin
around and around
We'll get so dizzy
Fall to the ground
Rainbow drizzle
Red green and blue
I like me
I like you
poem by Frances May
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Study In Orange And White
I knew that James Whistler was part of the Paris scene,
but I was still surprised when I found the painting
of his mother at the Musée d'Orsay
among all the colored dots and mobile brushstrokes
of the French Impressionists.
And I was surprised to notice
after a few minutes of benign staring,
how that woman, stark in profile
and fixed forever in her chair,
began to resemble my own ancient mother
who was now fixed forever in the stars, the air, the earth.
You can understand why he titled the painting
"Arrangement in Gray and Black"
instead of what everyone naturally calls it,
but afterward, as I walked along the river bank,
I imagined how it might have broken
the woman's heart to be demoted from mother
to a mere composition, a study in colorlessness.
As the summer couples leaned into each other
along the quay and the wide, low-slung boats
full of spectators slid up and down the Seine
between the carved stone bridges
and their watery reflections,
I thought: how ridiculous, how off-base.
It would be like Botticelli calling "The Birth of Venus"
"Composition in Blue, Ochre, Green, and Pink,"
or the other way around
like Rothko titling one of his sandwiches of color
"Fishing Boats Leaving Falmouth Harbor at Dawn."
Or, as I scanned the menu at the cafe
where I now had come to rest,
it would be like painting something laughable,
like a chef turning on a spit
over a blazing fire in front of an audience of ducks
and calling it "Study in Orange and White."
But by that time, a waiter had appeared
with my glass of Pernod and a clear pitcher of water,
and I sat there thinking of nothing
but the women and men passing by--
mothers and sons walking their small fragile dogs--
and about myself,
a kind of composition in blue and khaki,
and, now that I had poured
some water into the glass, milky-green.
poem by Billy Collins
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Pool
The moon leant down, her fingers kindling
the lips of each little wave of the pool,
blue O, with watery fire, til it said 'oh' or 'Oh'.
Tight in the grip of its meniscus the water bound
forms of drowned moths, that wings
outflung, soddenly stalked our gleaming abdomens-
we beat them back in fear and disgust.
From somewhere in the yard there came a light.
How our feet were magnified in the water's glass!
There by the hose head the underwater wrinkled.
Another, flat like a snake run over
Pin-pricked like arteries themselves, shot piddlng arcs
and the night ran on and we ran back onto the stoop
our ankles now stuck with sticky blades of grass
as new-moon colored bands of pale convolvulus,
white un-ringing yellow bells a-swinging,
raced slyly about the cornice of the house.
Everywhere the lawn was alive with little frogs
'Let us in, let us in', all at once shouting.
poem by Morgan Michaels
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Mary's Boy Child
Mary's boy child Jesus Christ, was born on Christmas Day.
And man will live for evermore, because of Christmas Day.
Long time ago in Bethlehem, so the Holy Bible said,
Mary's boy child Jesus Christ, was born on Christmas Day.
Hark, now hear the angels sing, a king was born today,
And man will live for evermore, because of Christmas Day.
Mary's boy child Jesus Christ, was born on Christmas Day.
While shepherds watch their flocks by night,
they see a bright new shining star,
they hear a choir sing a song, the music seemed to come from afar.
Hark, now hear the angels sing, a king was born today,
And man will live for evermore, because of Christmas Day.
For a moment the world was aglow, all the bells rang out
there were tears of joy and laughter, people shouted
"let everyone know, there is hope for all to find peace".
Now Joseph and his wife, Mary, came to Bethlehem that night,
they found no place to bear her child, not a single room was in sight.
And then they found a little nook in a stable all forlorn,
and in a manger cold and dark, Mary's little boy was born.
Hark, now hear the angels sing, a king was born today,
And man will live for evermore, because of Christmas Day.
Mary's boy child Jesus Christ, was born on Christmas Day.
Oh a moment still worth was a glow, all the bells rang out
there were tears of joy and laughter, people shouted
"let everyone know, there is hope for all to find peace".
Oh My Lord
Oh my Lord
You sent your son to save us
Oh my Lord
Your very self you gave us
Oh my Lord
That sin may not enslave us
And love may reign once more
Oh my Lord
when in the crib they found him
Oh my Lord
A golden halo crowned him
Oh my Lord
They gathered all around him
To see him and adore
(This day will live forever)
Oh my Lord (So praise the Lord)
They had become to doubt you
Oh my Lord (He is the truth forever)
What did they know about you
Oh my Lord (So praise the Lord)
But they were lost without you
They needed you so bad (His light is shining on us)
Oh my Lord (So praise the Lord)
with the child's adoration
Oh my lord (He is a personation)
There came great jubilation
Oh my Lord (So praise the Lord)
And full of admiration
They realized what they had (until the sun falls from the sky)
Oh my Lord (Oh praise the Lord)
You sent your son to save us
Oh my Lord (This day will live forever)
Your very self you gave us
Oh my Lord (So praise the Lord)
That sin may not enslave us
And love may reign once more
song performed by by Boney M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Heart Is A Chapel
(the heart is a chapel, and the words, feelings
thoughts, ' are the people'
you don't know what will come in
or leave thru those doors.
but! you are the pastor of this chapel
and you see only the goodness
that the LORD has given you.)
so you open those doors wide
for no one will be denied.
you hear and see the hurt and pain
and you know that it's a shame
that people can not see the beauties
but! just the misery.
this chapel will overcome anything
that comes its way.
for it cannot be torn down, burned down
or layed to the ground.
for your LORD made it strong from the start
this is why he calls it the 'heart'.
there will be a light so strong
and so bright
that it will brighten even the darkess night.
this chapel is a chapel of dreams
of things seen and unseen.
for the more that you have
hopes and aspirations
this will strengten the foundation.
it will make it stronger than its ever been
and repel all the sins.
this is the chapel that the
LORD gave to us.
and in him, we put our trust.
a strong heart will always heal
for it is something that you cannot steal
or shape to your desire.
it is a growing fire, that will spread
to everything in its way
and get stronger day by day.
poem by Louis Rams
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The Gift Of The Sea
The dead child lay in the shroud,
And the widow watched beside;
And her mother slept, and the Channel swept
The gale in the teeth of the tide.
But the mother laughed at all.
"I have lost my man in the sea,
And the child is dead. Be still," she said,
"What more can ye do to me?"
The widow watched the dead,
And the candle guttered low,
And she tried to sing the Passing Song
That bids the poor soul go.
And "Mary take you now," she sang,
"That lay against my heart."
And "Mary smooth your crib to-night,"
But she could not say "Depart."
Then came a cry from the sea,
But the sea-rime blinded the glass,
And "Heard ye nothing, mother?" she said,
"'Tis the child that waits to pass."
And the nodding mother sighed.
"'Tis a lambing ewe in the whin,
For why should the christened soul cry out
That never knew of sin?"
"O feet I have held in my hand,
O hands at my heart to catch,
How should they know the road to go,
And how should they lift the latch?"
They laid a sheet to the door,
With the little quilt atop,
That it might not hurt from the cold or the dirt,
But the crying would not stop.
The widow lifted the latch
And strained her eyes to see,
And opened the door on the bitter shore
To let the soul go free.
There was neither glimmer nor ghost,
There was neither spirit nor spark,
And "Heard ye nothing, mother?" she said,
"'Tis crying for me in the dark."
And the nodding mother sighed:
"'Tis sorrow makes ye dull;
Have ye yet to learn the cry of the tern,
Or the wail of the wind-blown gull?"
"The terns are blown inland,
The gray gull follows the plough.
'Twas never a bird, the voice I heard,
O mother, I hear it now!"
"Lie still, dear lamb, lie still;
The child is passed from harm,
'Tis the ache in your breast that broke your rest,
And the feel of an empty arm."
She put her mother aside,
"In Mary's name let be!
For the peace of my soul I must go," she said,
And she went to the calling sea.
In the heel of the wind-bit pier,
Where the twisted weed was piled,
She came to the life she had missed by an hour,
For she came to a little child.
She laid it into her breast,
And back to her mother she came,
But it would not feed and it would not heed,
Though she gave it her own child's name.
And the dead child dripped on her breast,
And her own in the shroud lay stark;
And "God forgive us, mother," she said,
"We let it die in the dark!"
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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Marys Boy Child/oh My Lord
Marys boy child
Marys boy child jesus christ, was born on christmas day.
And man will live for evermore, because of christmas day.
Long time ago in bethlehem, so the holy Bible said,
Marys boy child jesus christ, was born on christmas day.
Hark, now hear the angels sing, a king was born today,
And man will live for evermore, because of christmas day.
Marys boy child jesus christ, was born on christmas day.
While shepherds watch their flocks by night,
They see a bright new shining star,
They hear a choir sing a song, the music seemed to come from afar.
Hark, now hear the angels sing, a king was born today,
And man will live for evermore, because of christmas day.
For a moment the world was aglow, all the bells rang out
There were tears of joy and laughter, people shouted
Let everyone know, there is hope for all to find peace.
Now joseph and his wife, mary, came to bethlehem that night,
They found no place to bear her child, not a single room was in sight.
And then they found a little nook in a stable all forlorn,
And in a manger cold and dark, marys little boy was born.
Hark, now hear the angels sing, a king was born today,
And man will live for evermore, because of christmas day.
Marys boy child jesus christ, was born on christmas day.
Oh a moment still worth was a glow, all the bells rang out
There were tears of joy and laughter, people shouted
Let everyone know, there is hope for all to find peace.
Oh my lord
Oh my lord
You sent your son to save us
Oh my lord
Your very self you gave us
Oh my lord
That sin may not enslave us
And love may reign once more
Oh my lord
When in the crib they found him
Oh my lord
A golden halo crowned him
Oh my lord
They gathered all around him
To see him and adore
(this day will live forever)
Oh my lord (so praise the lord)
They had become to doubt you
Oh my lord (he is the truth forever)
What did they know about you
Oh my lord (so praise the lord)
But they were lost without you
They needed you so bad (his light is shining on us)
Oh my lord (so praise the lord)
With the childs adoration
Oh my lord (he is a personation)
There came great jubilation
Oh my lord (so praise the lord)
And full of admiration
They realized what they had (until the sun falls from the sky)
Oh my lord (oh praise the lord)
You sent your son to save us
Oh my lord (this day will live forever)
Your very self you gave us
Oh my lord (so praise the lord)
That sin may not enslave us
And love may reign once more
song performed by by Boney M.
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When I Look At The Rainbow
Lord when I look at the Rainbow you have placed in sky so
blue, it reminds me that all your promises are true
Your Rainbow reminds me that those who believe on you
are few, yet you have called us your little Ewe
Lord when I look at the Rainbow I see it's hue, it reminds
me that your love for us true
Your Rainbow in sky so blue, reminds me to keep praying
through
Lord when I look at the Rainbow it reminds me of your
promise to all of your creatures some of whom are of
different features
Your Rainbow and it's many colors reminds me that it
represents some whom are called colored
Lord when I look at your Rainbow and see how it's colors
are bright, it reminds me to do what is right
Your Rainbow I have never seen at night, this reminds me
to stay in the light
Lord when I look at your Rainbow it reminds me of your grief
because of our unbelief
Your Rainbow have no pot of gold, but your wonderful story
of love it has told
Lord when I Look at your Rainbow it reminds that you
promised to never again destroy the World with a flood
Your Rainbow to me is a sign of your love it represents
your Son's life Blood
poem by Vincent G. Mead
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Moon, We Look to You.
Moon, you have a shade of blue tonight –
Is it something that you saw or heard?
Only yesterday, your tone was proud and bright,
Yellow silver, full, and so assured.
Moon, despite the clarity of sky,
Metaphors of cloud that fluff with grey
Drift across your rounded face to spy;
Feeding back, there's awfully much to say.
Moon, you have a role to play up there –
We below must bear the earthly pain.
Duty bound, we shoulder sorrows fair –
You are free from our grotesque disdain.
Moon, we depend on you to shine
When the sun retires down below.
Add to that your grandest role divine:
Tidal Lord, to keep the seas in tow!
Moon, I hope you take to heart our plea –
Needless is the reason for your blue.
Beaming, you should give the night its glee:
We're despairing – so we look to you.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
Moon moon, moon so blue, moon, moon so blue
Moon moon, moon so blue, moon, moon so blue
Moon moon, moon so blue, moon, moon so blue
Moon moon, moon so blue, moon, moon so blue
Moon moon, moon so blue, moon, moon so blue
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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