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The Breath Of Night

The moon rises. The red cubs rolling
In the ferns by the rotten oak
Stare over a marsh and a meadow
To the farm's white wisp of smoke.
A spark burns, high in heaven.
Deer thread the blossoming rows
Of the old orchard, rabbits
Hop by the well-curb. The cock crows
From the tree by the widow's walk;
Two stars in the trees to the west,
Are snared, and an owl's soft cry
Runs like a breath through the forest.
Here too, though death is hushed, though joy
Obscures, like night, their wars,
The beings of this world are swept
By the Strife that moves the stars.

poem by Randall Jarrell
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I Watch The Moon From My Maple Tree

As I watch the moon
So quietly
From high above
In my maple tree

I see the stars
That shine all night
They speak to me
Making sure I'm alright

My life is hard
But I'm ok
Watching the show
With nothing to say

As the moon and the stars
Dance the night away
I sit and stare
Like I can't in the day

When I'm up so high
I feel so free
Happy and safe
In my maple tree

The moon is the sun
That shines in the dark
I can see it from bed
Or from way in the park

It helps me a lot
The moon is my guide
And 'I love that old tree'
I queitly sighed

poem by Miranda Van Yperen
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A Noon Song

There are songs for the morning and songs for the night,
For sunrise and sunset, the stars and the moon;
But who will give praise to the fulness of light,
And sing us a song of the glory of noon?
Oh, the high noon, the clear noon,
The noon with golden crest;
When the blue sky burns, and the great sun turns
With his face to the way of the west!

How swiftly he rose in the dawn of his strength;
How slowly he crept as the morning wore by;
Ah, steep was the climbing that led him at length
To the height of his throne in the wide summer sky.
Oh, the long toil, the slow toil,
The toil that may not rest,
Till the sun looks down from his journey's crown,
To the wonderful way of the west!

Then a quietness falls over meadow and hill,
The wings of the wind in the forest are furled,
The river runs softly, the birds are all still,
The workers are resting all over the world.
Oh, the good hour, the kind hour,
The hour that calms the breast!
Little inn half-way on the road of the day,
Where it follows the turn to the west!

There's a plentiful feast in the maple-tree shade,
The lilt of a song to an old-fashioned tune,
The talk of a friend, or the kiss of a maid,
To sweeten the cup that we drink to the noon.
Oh, the deep noon, the full noon,
Of all the day the best!
When the blue sky burns, and the great sun turns
To his home by the way of the west.

poem by Henry Van Dyke
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An Owl In Darkness

an owl in darkness hidden
somewhere in the trees,
began to chant - unbidden
her soft soliloquys.

a slender crescent shining
and stars undaunted by,
a black cat in a fir tree caught
meowing at the sky.

such was the twilights gifting,
the offerings of the night.
til heaven started
shape-shifting
from darkness into light.

then raven spelled the owl,
and dewdrops, stars replace.
as dawn removed the heaven's cowl
and moon withdrew her face.

poem by Moon Batchelder
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The Lark's Song

The morning is wild and dark,
The night mist runs on the vale,
Bright Lucifer dies to a spark,
And the wind whistles up for a gale.
And stormy the day may be
That breaks through its prison bars,
But it brings no regret to me,
For I sing at the door of the stars!

Along the dim ocean-verge
I see the ships labouring on;
They rise on the lifting surge
One moment, and they are gone.
I see on the twilight plain
The flash of the flying cars;
Men travail in joy or pain -
But I sing at the door of the stars!

I see the green, sleeping world,
The pastures all glazed with rime;
The smoke from the chimney curled;
I hear the faint church bells chime.
I see the grey mountain crest,
The slopes, and the forest spars,
With the dying moon on their breast -
While I sing at the door of the stars!

poem by Anne Glenny Wilson
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Autumn Night

leaves change color
the cool breeze flies
the song of the leaves roars
rustles and bustles in the brush
birds begin to sing to the south
sky turns red as the sun sets on an Autumn evening
clouds not white but pink
coco and cookies all around
coats and children surround
the fire of life
roads and streets quiet
what a sound, what a sight
what a wonderful Autumn night
marsh mellows in fire places
smoke of warmth fills the night sky
sweet Autumn night
make the stars shine bright
the sun rises
the moon disappears
stars that once shone
are now gone
what a night
what a sight
please Autumn day
bring one more

poem by Diana Americano
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Valentine

Written by dewey bunnell, 1980
Found on alibi.
Well, she said all along, Im her one
A little fingernail polish, chewin gum
Her round the world heart made of platinum, thats right
She looks like a china doll baby, especially in white
A tropicana flower in the candlelight
She turned into a pumpkin pie, sweet kiss at midnight
She moves, oh so fine
Shes like a perfect valentine
Shes not one to fall in love
Shes too high on the stars above at night
She wants to be your red-hot mama, all alone
She dances with the boys on the telephone
She makes a lotta noise in the quiet zone at night
Yeah, you talk about a party at the beach, aint that grand
She just took a raincheck with another man
Who lay on the deck of his catamaran some night
She moves, oh so fine
Shes like a perfect valentine
Shes not one to fall in love
Shes too high on the stars above at night
Well, I cant tell you much, but what I know (what I know)
You cant take her with you when its time to go
cause she knows where its at with a romeo, youll see
She moves, oh so fine
Shes like a perfect valentine
Shes not one to fall in love
Shes too high on the stars above at night
She moves
Just like a perfect valentine
Shes not one to fall in love
Shes too high on the stars above at night

song performed by by America
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Snow

Down out of heaven,
Frost-kissed
And wind driven,
Flake upon flake,
Over forest and lake,
Cometh the snow.

Folding the forest,
Folding the farms,
In a mantle of white;
And the river’s great arms,
Kissed by the chill night
From clamor to rest,
Lie all white and shrouded
Upon the world’s breast.

Falling so slowly
Down from above,
So white, hushed, and holy,
Folding the city
Like the great pity
Of God in His love; 20
Sent down out of heaven
On its sorrow and crime,
Blotting them, folding them
Under its rime.

Fluttering, rustling,
Soft as a breath,
The whisper of leaves,
The low pinions of death,
Or the voice of the dawning,
When day has its birth,
Is the music of silence
It makes to the earth.

Thus down out of heaven,
Frost-kissed
And wind driven,
Flake upon flake,
Over forest and lake,
Cometh the snow.

poem by William Wilfred Campbell
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Stars

Now in the West the slender moon lies low,
And now Orion glimmers through the trees,
Clearing the earth with even pace and slow,
And now the stately-moving Pleiades,
In that soft infinite darkness overhead
Hang jewel-wise upon a silver thread.

And all the lonelier stars that have their place,
Calm lamps within the distant southern sky,
And planet-dust upon the edge of space,
Look down upon the fretful world, and I
Look up to outer vastness unafraid
And see the stars which sang when earth was made.

poem by Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
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Phases of the Moon

Once upon a time I heard
That the flying moon was a Phoenix bird;
Thus she sails through windy skies,
Thus in the willow's arms she lies;
Turn to the East or turn to the West
In many trees she makes her nest.
When she's but a pearly thread
Look among birch leaves overhead;
When she dies in yellow smoke
Look in a thunder-smitten oak;
But in May when the moon is full,
Bright as water and white as wool,
Look for her where she loves to be,
Asleep in a high magnolia tree.

poem by Elinor Morton Wylie
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Shield Bugs

I was assiduous
organizing my collection.

Had you not been told
what they were,
you might have thought
they were trees and stars,

or an orchard,
a small one of nine large trees,
three to a row,

or a large one of forty-five small conical trees
in nine groups of five,
three to a row,

or, taking part in a contest
to find the largest possible number of trees,
you could add the two together
and have fifty four
and think you had them all.

Some bright spark,
a contestant,
got the idea to replace the lot with wind turbines.

Someone was sure the turbines had been there
before the shield bugs.

Another, threw theory into chaos:
while agreeing that
a tree can be made of stars,
he also asserted,
a star can be made of trees!

Within a steady state of coexistence
each possibility pulsed
in and out of sense.

poem by Douglas Scotney
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Images

I

Like a gondola of green scented fruits
Drifting along the dark canals of Venice,
You, O exquisite one,
Have entered into my desolate city.

II

The blue smoke leaps
Like swirling clouds of birds vanishing.
So my love leaps forth toward you,
Vanishes and is renewed.

III

A rose-yellow moon in a pale sky
When the sunset is faint vermilion
In the mist among the tree-boughs
Art thou to me, my beloved.

IV

A young beech tree on the edge of the forest
Stands still in the evening,
Yet shudders through all its leaves in the light air
And seems to fear the stars -
So are you still and so tremble.

V

The red deer are high on the mountain,
They are beyond the last pine trees.
And my desires have run with them.

VI

The flower which the wind has shaken
Is soon filled again with rain;
So does my heart fill slowly with tears,
Until you return.

poem by Richard Aldington
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Creatures Of The Night

Sigh like her long legs reaching for the river
Longing to know righteousness
Longing for jewels of the deep sleep
Taken from the side of morning
Taken from earth filled with stars

Deer walk to the fields
The moon rises with grace
Geese in the shadows of spring

Your fingernails are red like fire
Your voice like the call of fire
The bass plays like a mantra
Guitars born in the sun
The moon out my window
Let the drums be an army
Let the night flow like a lover
She makes my teeth chatter
Her sweetness like a wet forest
Everything bathed in moonlight
Ye creatures of the night come out

poem by Joseph Narusiewicz
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A Dance For The Night Sky

Let's dance to this song
Just this once, we lose all bonds
Our bodies, cascading
We make the world our dance floor
To this final waltz, we sway like waves
Beneath the envious stars
Hearts bursting like fireworks on New Year's Eve

Every star, we claim as ours
We make our mark
Under the moon we dance
The only spark in the night
That could ever be brighter than the moonlight

I am the burning red, and you lush as gold
We illuminate the night's endless fold
A duet of colors, to light the desolate night sky
Brighter than the moon and stars, you and I

For just one night
Take my hand
My last chance
Lasts in this dance under the night sky
For I swear on my last breath
With you I'll make the moon and stars weep
As we dance the most beautiful waltz
The constellations will ever see

poem by Dan Debello
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Rings Around The Moon

Rings around the moon
(written by b. r. & m. gibb)
If youre lonely in the black of night
If you call me, Ill be there
I was falling and you helped me get it right
And I thank you girl, and I thank you
And I pray for the sign
And I wont be too late
If you just come down
I can look you in the eye
I can tell you that I love you
And my love will never die
And its time that you know
Just how far I mean to go
We fly rings around the moon
We fly rings around the moon
We fly rings around the moon
We fly rings around the moon
Come tomorrow, candle burns
And I wake up by your side
All my sorrow, you made it disappear
And I thank you, and I thank you
And I lay down my life
And I wont be alone
If you just take time
And be sure of who you are
We can take it up to heaven
We can walk amongst the stars
And I know if you stay
I will never turn away
We fly rings around the moon
We fly rings around the moon
We fly rings around the moon
We fly rings around the moon
And I pray for the sign
And I wont be too late
If you just take time
And be sure of who you are
We can take it up to heaven
We can walk amongst the stars
And I know if you stay
I will never turn away
We fly rings around the moon
We fly rings around the moon
We fly rings around the moon
We fly rings around the moon

song performed by by Bee Gees
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The old farm yard

I see a spade making holes
and shoots of peach trees
Appearing in rows in an orchard.

There’s a hot sun
that hangs above in a bright blue sky
and sweat flow in streams,
from under the old dark brown hat.

The old red Massi Ferguson tractors
machine has turned for a last time
and red dirt lies blown thick,
where it stands on the side against an old oak tree.

At the shed there’s a big silver tank
full of expensive diesoline
and I hear the boreholes
pump humming monotonous
and I see spill points in the distance
spraying water on the field
and the smell of wet ground
hangs like a blessing
in the air.

An old big Cock
raise its white wings
and crows angrily,
when the green John Deere tractor
with its trailer full of workers
stop in front of the homestead
Where it stands and scratches.

It’s great to eat country fare,
but the peace and tranquillity
on the old farm yard
me desire
to also live at such a place.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Manchester by Night

O'er this huge town, rife with intestine wars,
Whence as from monstrous sacrificial shrines
Pillars of smoke climb heavenward, Night inclines
Black brows majestical with glimmering stars.
Her dewy silence soothes life's angry jars:
And like a mother's wan white face, who pines
Above her children's turbulent ways, so shines
The moon athwart the narrow cloudy bars.

Now toiling multitudes that hustling crush
Each other in the fateful strife for breath,
And, hounded on by diverse hungers, rush
Across the prostrate ones that groan beneath,
Are swathed within the universal hush,
As life exchanges semblances with death.

poem by Mathilde Blind
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To A Mountain Spring

Strange little spring, by channels past our telling,
Gentle, resistless, welling, welling, welling;
Through what blind ways, we know not whence
You darkling come to dance and dimple--
Strange little spring!
Nature hath no such innocence,
And no more secret thing--
So mysterious and so simple;
Earth hath no such fairy daughter
Of all her witchcraft shapes of water.
When all the land with summer burns,
And brazen noon rides hot and high,
And tongues are parched and grasses dry,
Still are you green and hushed with ferns,
And cool as some old sanctuary;
Still are you brimming o'er with dew
And stars that dipped their feet in you.

And I believe when none is by,
Only the young moon in the sky--
The Greeks of old were right about you--
A naiad, like a marble flower,
Lifts up her lovely shape from out you,
Swaying like a silver shower.

So in old years dead and gone
Brimmed the spring on Helicon,
Just a little spring like you--
Ferns and moss and stars and dew--
Nigh the sacred Muses' dwelling,
Dancing, dimpling, welling, welling.

poem by Richard Le Gallienne
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What lies on the other side of a dark moon

My darling says
look how bright is the moon
and the gold
appears on the other side,
of the window pane
where it hangs in a round ball
in the dark night.

It’s as if the stars
tonight are fading away
and every thing in the heaven,
disappears before the bright moon.

We lie on a three quarters bed
and I wonder how many kisses
are still destined for me
and her soft body,
are touching mine
while my hand
glide over her soft round curves.

Her breath tickles my neck
while the night folds around us
and when she disappears into sleep
I am still busy
watching the magical moon
and I wonder what lies on the other side
of a dark moon
and if the sky,
will then have more stars in it,
but the star
that shines the brightest to me
is still in my arms
when the moon disappears
in the early morning.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Veneta Marina

The masts rise white to the stars,
White on the night of the sky,
Out of the water's night,
And the stars lean down to them white.
Ah! how the stars seem nigh;
How far away are the stars!

And I too under the stars,
Alone with the night again,
And the water's monotone;
I and the night alone,
And the world and the ways of men
Farther from me than the stars.

poem by Arthur Symons
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Hooded Night

At night, toward dawn, all the lights of the shore have died,
And the wind moves. Moves in the dark
The sleeping power of the ocean, no more beastlike than manlike,
Not to be compared; itself and itself.
Its breath blown shoreward huddles the world with a fog; no stars
Dance in heaven; no ship's light glances.
I see the heavy granite bodies of the rocks of the headland,
That were ancient here before Egypt had pyramids,
Bulk on the gray of the sky, and beyond them the jets of young trees
I planted the year of the Versailles peace.
But here is the final unridiculous peace. Before the first man
Here were the stones, the ocean, the cypresses,
And the pallid region in the stone-rough dome of fog where the moon
Falls on the west. Here is reality.
The other is a spectral episode: after the inquisitive animal's
Amusements are quiet: the dark glory.

poem by Robinson Jeffers
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