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Middle-Ages

I heard a clash, and a cry,
And a horseman fleeing the wood.
The moon hid in a cloud.
Deep in shadow I stood.
‘Ugly work!’ thought I,
Holding my breath.
‘Men must be cruel and proud,
‘Jousting for death’.

With gusty glimmering shone
The moon; and the wind blew colder.
A man went over the hill,
Bent to his horse’s shoulder.
‘Time for me to be gone’...
Darkly I fled.
Owls in the wood were shrill,
And the moon sank red.

poem by Siegfried Sassoon
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Middle-Ages

I heard a clash, and a cry,
And a horseman fleeing the wood.
The moon hid in a cloud.
Deep in shadow I stood.
‘Ugly work!’ thought I,
Holding my breath.
‘Men must be cruel and proud,
‘Jousting for death’.

With gusty glimmering shone
The moon; and the wind blew colder.
A man went over the hill,
Bent to his horse’s shoulder.
‘Time for me to be gone’…
Darkly I fled.
Owls in the wood were shrill,
And the moon sank red.

poem by Siegfried Sassoon
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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Here Comes The Moon

Everybodys talking up a storm
Act like they dont notice it
But here it is and here it comes . . .
Here comes the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon.
Impulse always quickens when its full
As it turns my head around me
Yes it does and here it comes
Here comes the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon.
Gods gift I see thats moving up there into the night . . .
Though dark the mirror in the sky reflects us our light:
Looks like a little brother to the sun
Or mother to the stars at night
And here it is and here it comes
Here comes the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon, the moon.
Breath is always taken when its new
Enhance upon the clouds around it
Yes it is and here it comes
Here comes the moon, the moon, the moon.

song performed by by George Harrison
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Song - Sea of Sand

You sent me to the moon
Across a silent sea of sand
I was reaching for your hand
But you were standing on a hill

You launched me to the moon
Across the wind between the stars
I was reaching through the sand
But I was fading out of view

I was just a photograph
An old fading black and white
Taken by a passer-by
When the sun was out of sight

You sent me to the moon
I caught the desolation bus
There was no-one there but us
I saw your shadow on the sand

You sent me to the moon
Down every road we’ve ever walked
Every place we strayed or talked
When we were higher than the wind

I went searching all the stars
Between the avenues and bars
You were everywhere I went
In a different universe

You sent me to the moon
Across the frozen wastes of old
Where the howling wind blew cold
Where I lost you in the snow

You sent me to the moon
Although I didn’t want to know
But I built myself a home
Between the rainbow and the stones

I was frozen to the bone
In the icy wind of truth
I was free and on my own
In my castle on the moon

You sent me to the moon
Across a silent sea of sand
I was reaching for your hand
But you were standing on a hill

(Thanks to Tailor Bell for 'higher than the wind')

poem by Jim Hogg
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Luna

Deep slumber hung o'er sea and hill and plain;
With pale pink cheek fresh from her watery caves
Slow rose the moon out of the midnight waves,
Like Venus out of ocean born again.
Olympian blazed she on the dark blue main;
'So shall, ye gods,' — hark how my weak hope raves! —
'My happy star ascend the sea that laves
Its shores with grief, and silence all my pain!'
With that there sighed a wandering midnight breeze
High up among the topmost tufted trees,
And o'er the moon's face blew a veil of cloud;
And in the breeze my genius spake, and said,
'While thy heart stirred, thy glimmering hope has fled,
And like the moon lies muffled in a shroud.'

poem by Erik Johan Stagnelius
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Pale Moon

Moon sings and sighs
narrating her past,
autumnal cloud spreads
over our happiness.

Lofty forest is going to cry
when the ray of the moon whispers
„ What did it happen with the moon? „
that the moon is sad and does not smile.

The ray of the moon warmed up
all is moving in this forest
that any animal is asking
how to be helped
proud moon in the sky.

I feel the ray of the moon
in my palm.
I carres and spoil her
then the moon smiles me
because the sadness has gone.

poem by Valentin Gabriel Cristea
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Moon After Day

Moon shed a tear
Moon give me fear
Moon light my way
Moon after day

Moon give me strength
Moon has no length
What I want to say,
Is Moon after day

Moon is full
Moon is dull
Moon light my way
Moon after day

Moon is my life
Moon gave me a knife
Moon slit my wrist
Moon a wonderful bliss

What I want to say
Moon after day!

poem by Akia Snow
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Musings

I sat by my window one night,
And watched how the stars grew high;
And the earth and skies were a splendid sight
To a sober and musing eye.

From heaven the silver moon shone down
With gentle and mellow ray,
And beneath the crowded roofs of the town
In broad light and shadow lay.

A glory was on the silent sea,
And mainland and island too,
Till a haze came over the lowland lea,
And shrouded that beautiful blue.

Bright in the moon the autumn wood
Its crimson scarf unrolled,
And the trees like a splendid army stood
In a panoply of gold!

I saw them waving their banners high,
As their crests to the night wind bowed,
And a distant sound on the air went by,
Like the whispering of a crowd.

Then I watched from my window how fast
The lights all around me fled,
As the wearied man to his slumber passed
And the sick one to his bed.

All faded save one, that burned
With distant and steady light;
But that, too, went out -- and I turned
Where my own lamp within shone bright!

Thus, thought I, our joys must die,
Yes -- the brightest from earth we win:
Till each turns away, with a sign,
To the lamp that burns brightly within.

poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Gibbous over Wood

The moon is not yet grown -
It is at the doorstep of maturity.
But still its light comes down
Through the broadleaf wood.
Here and there, a leaf is silver,
Chosen favorite of the moon,
While the other trees shiver
In the dark with envy.
The moon is not yet grown –
It is brilliant in its youth.
It is to the sun a mirror
And to the sky a mouth.
There is a light about a tree
A white wedding-gown,
Shall the moon wed the tree
Before it is yet grown?
The moon is not yet grown –
It is confident, though,
And shines with great spirit,
Piercing the wood through.
There is a path across the river,
Wrought in silver stone.
The moon mocks the walker
Who takes the path and drowns.

poem by Sophia White
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Moon Is Like You

Moon will my beam cross over?
Moon how too know I am so lonely.
Moon know, why I do sit under you?
Moon You are so bright, I reach up,
into and touch yours is very heavenly.
Moon why do you blink? Moon so pink.
Moon like you, we are to much similar
and have only one way up into moon.
Moon our faces reflect out and within.
Moon they all do, moon when you do.

poem by Is It Poetry
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Moon Reflects on Water

I thought that
'heart' was beautiful, pure and unbroken thing
My heart should be beautiful and bright too
I believe it is born to light his heart
Never only be the shadow of shining moon
in the dark night sky
My heart should..must be beautiful and bright, but..
it's not
Why I'm such a fool and proud one
My heart... like reflection moon on water, so small
like moon's hidden by the cloud
Even shining moon on gloomy night
could lose its charm

poem by Maria Sudibyo
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Frog Prince Of 21th Century (Part 1)

The memory I've taken with when I started to walk,
I promised I never did gone to break your heart.
Listen to the birds' singing, moon's gone to shards.
I knew the rest of the folktales, and now i will talk.

'Frog is hiding to find a place to sleep
from danger of world after he's cursed by witch.
An ugly frog appeared when he was looking into the pond.
Moonlight reflection appeared beside him likes it's never gone.'

'He looked above to talk to the moon,
but moon was hiding behind the cloud as her room.
Desperately, he walked his alley under the moon's shadow.
Quietly, moon was staring at him from her hideaway unknown.'

'Doubtful and lonely, he wondered 'bout the moon,
'I'm no more a prince, no more sprayed with fume'
'Is it why the moon hated me after i was fallen? '
'I'm no more than a frog without a crown to bring'. '

poem by Kite Remedy
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Yes, the moon!

The moon.
Yes!
Yes, the moon!
I like to wander
with the moon.

It's easy with the moon.
Not awkward, you'd
expect it might be awkward.
It's not.
Not with the moon.

The moon is always
gleaming,
and glowing.
Never upset.

The moon, doesn't get hurt,
or sore with me.
It is just there.
Listening.

The moon is a gooood listener.
It sits through all my
moaning, and groaning.
So I don't have to go
moan, and groan,
alone.

The moon is just what I need.
It's what I've got.
The moon,
oh, the moon.
I'd like to think
the moon is just a different part
of me.

poem by Victor Matthews
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How one Winter Came in the Lake Region

1 For weeks and weeks the autumn world stood still,
2 Clothed in the shadow of a smoky haze;
3 The fields were dead, the wind had lost its will,
4 And all the lands were hushed by wood and hill,
5 In those grey, withered days.

6 Behind a mist the blear sun rose and set,
7 At night the moon would nestle in a cloud;
8 The fisherman, a ghost, did cast his net;
9 The lake its shores forgot to chafe and fret,
10 And hushed its caverns loud.

11 Far in the smoky woods the birds were mute,
12 Save that from blackened tree a jay would scream,
13 Or far in swamps the lizard's lonesome lute
14 Would pipe in thirst, or by some gnarlèd root
15 The tree-toad trilled his dream.

16 From day to day still hushed the season's mood,
17 The streams stayed in their runnels shrunk and dry;
18 Suns rose aghast by wave and shore and wood,
19 And all the world, with ominous silence, stood
20 In weird expectancy:

21 When one strange night the sun like blood went down,
22 Flooding the heavens in a ruddy hue;
23 Red grew the lake, the sere fields parched and brown,
24 Red grew the marshes where the creeks stole down,
25 But never a wind-breath blew.

26 That night I felt the winter in my veins,
27 A joyous tremor of the icy glow;
28 And woke to hear the north's wild vibrant strains,
29 While far and wide, by withered woods and plains,
30 Fast fell the driving snow.

poem by William Wilfred Campbell
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The Surfer Moon

Theres a moon in the sky somewhere I know
Waiting for all the love to burn below
If you fall and it happens all to soon
Blame it all on the surfer moon
neath the hill hind the cloud one dreamy night
Rising up throwing down its golden light
If your heart hears this melancholy tune
Then youll know its the surfer moon
Brings the tide in
Takes it all away
Helps us ride in
Brings us waves each day
I say
Other moons have brought light and love before
Promising to remain for evermore
But they all disappeared with each new tune
They make way for the surfer moon
Moon
Moon
Moon
Moon

song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Blueberry Hill

I found my thrill
On blueberry hill
On blueberry hill
When I found you
The moon stood still (moon stood still)
On blueberry hill (blueberry hill)
It lingered until (lingered until)
My dream true (true)
Though were apart (we are apart)
I think of you still (think of you still)
For you were my friend (you were my friend)
On blueberry hill
The wind in the willow played
Loves sweet melody
But all those vows you made
Were never to be
Though were apart (we are apart)
I think of you still (think of you still)
For you were my friend (you were my friend)
On blueberry hill
I found my thrill (found my thrill)
On blueberry hill (blueberry hill)
On blueberry hill (blueberry hill)
When I found you (you)
The moon stood still (moon stood still)
On blueberry hill (blueberry hill)
It lingered until (lingered until)

song performed by by Beach Boys
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Now I See You, as The Blue Moon

Now I see you full, my love
As the moon, the Blue moon,
I thought, I did see you;
It was the moon, the Gibbous moon.
You smiled, for me, when you were
The moon, the Crescent moon,
With your pain, on your dark.
You laughed, for me, when you were
The moon, the Half moon,
But now I know, that I saw,
Only the moon, the dark moon,
And thought it, to be,
The moon, the full moon.
©Anees Rahman

poem by Anees Rahman
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Lines: The cold earth slept below

The cold earth slept below;
Above the cold sky shone;
And all around,
With a chilling sound,
From caves of ice and fields of snow
The breath of night like death did flow
Beneath the sinking moon.

The wintry hedge was black;
The green grass was not seen;
The birds did rest
On the bare thorn's breast,
Whose roots, beside the pathway track,
Had bound their folds o'er many a crack
Which the frost had made between.

Thine eyes glow'd in the glare
Of the moon's dying light;
As a fen-fire's beam
On a sluggish stream
Gleams dimly--so the moon shone there,
And it yellow'd the strings of thy tangled hair,
That shook in the wind of night.

The moon made thy lips pale, belov{`e}d;
The wind made thy bosom chill;
The night did shed
On thy dear head
Its frozen dew, and thou didst lie
Where the bitter breath of the naked sky
Might visit thee at will.

poem by Percy Bysshe Shelley
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From "Snow-Bound," 11:1-40, 116-154

The sun that brief December day
Rose cheerless over hills of gray,
And, darkly circled, gave at noon
A sadder light than waning moon.
Slow tracing down the thickening sky
Its mute and ominous prophecy,
A portent seeming less than threat,
It sank from sight before it set.
A chill no coat, however stout,
Of homespun stuff could quite shut out,
A hard, dull bitterness of cold,
That checked, mid-vein, the circling race
Of life-blood in the sharpened face,
The coming of the snow-storm told.
The wind blew east: we heard the roar
Of Ocean on his wintry shore,
And felt the strong pulse throbbing there
Beat with low rhythm our inland air.
Meanwhile we did your nightly chores,--
Brought in the wood from out of doors,
Littered the stalls, and from the mows
Raked down the herd's-grass for the cows;
Heard the horse whinnying for his corn;
And, sharply clashing horn on horn,
Impatient down the stanchion rows
The cattle shake their walnut bows;
While, peering from his early perch
Upon the scaffold's pole of birch,
The cock his crested helmet bent
And down his querulous challenge sent.

Unwarmed by any sunset light
The gray day darkened into night,
A night made hoary with the swarm
And whirl-dance of the blinding storm,
As zigzag, wavering to and fro
Crossed and recrossed the wingèd snow:
And ere the early bed-time came
The white drift piled the window-frame,
And through the glass the clothes-line posts
Looked in like tall and sheeted ghosts.

*

As night drew on, and, from the crest
Of wooded knolls that ridged the west,
The sun, a snow-blown traveller, sank
From sight beneath the smothering bank,
We piled, with care, our nightly stack
Of wood against the chimney-back,--
The oaken log, green, huge, and thick,
And on its top the stout back-stick;
The knotty forestick laid apart,
And filled between with curious art
The ragged brush; then, hovering near,
We watched the first red blaze appear,
Heard the sharp crackle, caught the gleam
On whitewashed wall and sagging beam,
Until the old, rude-furnished room
Burst, flower-like, into rosy bloom;
While radiant with a mimic flame
Outside the sparkling drift became,
And through the bare-boughed lilac-tree
Our own warm hearth seemed blazing free.
The crane and pendent trammels showed,
The Turks' heads on the andirons glowed;
While childish fancy, prompt to tell
The meaning of the miracle,
Whispered the old rhyme: "Under the tree,
When fire outdoors burns merrily,
There the witches are making tea."
The moon above the eastern wood
Shone at its full; the hill-range stood
Transfigured in the silver flood,
Its blown snows flashing cold and keen,
Dead white, save where some sharp ravine
Took shadow, or the somber green
Of hemlocks turned to pitchy black
Against the whiteness at their back.
For such a world and such a night
Most fitting that unwarming light,
Which only seemed where'er it fell
To make the coldness visible.

poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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Son Of The Moon

Son of the moon
You are brilliant
You are bright
We wanted so much to apologize because we didn’t know you that Well before
Son of the moon
Yes we are both guilty of that
Son of the moon
We had been more occupied with ourselves
Son of the moon
We think that it was so silly and selfish
Only now we realize that
Son of the moon
You are a friend of the sky
The sky would be lost without you
We would be lost without you also
Son of the moon
We know the real you
Son of the moon
We know this innocent world that it is only in our minds
In reality it is not an innocent world
It is an ugly picture that we all paint
And of course it will always remain in our minds
Son of the moon
Dear Lord you know the son of the moon
You created it also
Lets embrace
The son of the moon
Son of the moon
If we will ever find love we hope it will last forever
Son of the moon
We are the warriors of the earth
We fight for freedom
We fight for love
We fight for peace
We fight for what we believe in
Son of the moon

poem by Aldo Kraas
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