Golden Moonrose
When your eyes gaze seaward
Piercing through the dim
Slow descending nightfall,
On the outer rim
Where the deep blue silence
Touches sky and sea,
Hast thou seen the golden
Moon, rise silently?
Seen the great battalions
Of the stars grow pale ---
Melting in the magic
Of her silver veil?
I have seen the wonder,
I have felt the balm
Of the golden moonrise
Turn to silver calm.
poem by William Stanley Braithwaite
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Silver Veil
A bed made under silver stars,
Pressed next to golden curves, I lay here in your womb
Seeking clarity of years
In my heart a golden promise shattered,
The familiar glow pursued
Strange you never knew
Under silver veil upon cold stone, I gaze eyes closed
All things we are (were) , I am not saying
Of grace I am thirsty
To be all things for you, I bleed
my last day
my last breath
poem by Thomas L. Flores
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My Father’s Son
Once
when I was still a baby boy
obsessed, thrilled with dark night sky
father said, shut your eyes tightly
then sailed I into dark night sky
dreaming of my arms
dipping in deep, dark-blue velvety
palpating golden sheen of the golden full moon
snatching twinkling stars.
But
i fell like lead
just before hard ground
to my father’s arms- veinated, calloused
his chirped nails safely grabbed
then
i opened my eyes
stretching my empty arms, pink nails
for a earnest glimpse of
a dip of deep, dark-blue velvety
golden sheen of the golden full moon
snatched twinkling stars.
and I felt sad.
Then-
father buried his head on my nape
his grizzly beard tickling my face
making little ‘blurp’ ‘blurp’ sounds
my shrill laughter
accosting his deep throaty laughter
echoing my disappointment into dark night sky
before sailing me into dark night sky
back to his rough-gentle arms
again
again
and again
to dip in deep, dark-blue velvety
palpate golden sheen of the golden full moon
snatching twinkling stars.
“Drink all Ma’s omena* soup
to be taller, reach the dark night sky”
father said, following my gaze
into the dark night sky
static radio bleating reggae
golden full moon bathing us in golden sheen
just me and my father
sleeping in his rough-gentle arms
dreaming of my arms
dipping in deep, dark-blue velvety
palpating golden sheen of the golden full moon
snatching twinkling stars
poem by Manuel Odeny
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When a people reach the top of a hill,
When a people reach the top of a hill,
Then does God lean toward them,
Shortens tongues and lengthens arms.
A vision of their dead comes to the weak.
The moon shall not be too old
Before the new battalions rise,
Blue battalions.
The moon shall not be too old
When the children of change shall fall
Before the new battalions,
The blue battalions.
Mistakes and virtues will be trampled deep.
A church and a thief shall fall together.
A sword will come at the bidding of the eyeless,
The God-led, turning only to beckon,
Swinging a creed like a censer
At the head of the new battalions,
Blue battalions.
March the tools of nature's impulse,
Men born of wrong, men born of right,
Men of the new battalions,
The blue battalions.
The clang of swords is Thy wisdom,
The wounded make gestures like Thy Son's;
The feet of mad horses is one part --
Ay, another is the hand of a mother on the brow of a youth.
Then, swift as they charge through a shadow,
The men of the new battalions,
Blue battalions --
God lead them high, God lead them far,
God lead them far, God lead them high,
These new battalions,
The blue battalions.
poem by Stephen Crane
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Silver Dreams, Golden Smiles
You came to me
In a silver dream
With a glowing flow
Of a mountain stream
You lift my soul
Way beyond the sky
Just to wake me up
With your golden smiles
Chorus:
Silver dreams and golden smiles
Silver dreams and golden smiles
Silver dreams and golden smiles
Silver dreams and golden smiles
I knew one day
You would come my way
You would help me see
The reality
Heaven and earth
They are one, the same
In my heart I know
When you call my name
Chorus
Dreaming when Im wide awake
See, when my eyes are closed
Flying, I dont need no wings
Being everywhere at once
Hold me, hold me in your arms
Fill me with your glowing grace
Chorus
song performed by by Santana
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Endymion
The rising moon has hid the stars;
Her level rays, like golden bars,
Lie on the landscape green,
With shadows brown between.
And silver white the river gleams,
As if Diana, in her dreams,
Had dropt her silver bow
Upon the meadows low.
On such a tranquil night as this,
She woke Endymion with a kiss,
When, sleeping in the grove,
He dreamed not of her love.
Like Dian's kiss, unasked, unsought,
Love gives itself, but is not bought;
Nor voice, nor sound betrays
Its deep, impassioned gaze.
It comes,--the beautiful, the free,
The crown of all humanity,--
In silence and alone
To seek the elected one.
It lifts the boughs, whose shadows deep
Are Life's oblivion, the soul's sleep,
And kisses the closed eyes
Of him, who slumbering lies.
O weary hearts! O slumbering eyes!
O drooping souls, whose destinies
Are fraught with fear and pain,
Ye shall be loved again!
No one is so accursed by fate,
No one so utterly desolate,
But some heart, though unknown,
Responds unto his own.
Responds,--as if with unseen wings,
An angel touched its quivering strings;
And whispers, in its song,
"'Where hast thou stayed so long?"
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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Those Dancing Days Are Gone
Come, let me sing into your ear;
Those dancing days are gone,
All that silk and satin gear;
Crouch upon a stone,
Wrapping that foul body up
In as foul a rag:
I carry the sun in a golden cup.
The moon in a silver bag.
Curse as you may I sing it through;
What matter if the knave
That the most could pleasure you,
The children that he gave,
Are somewhere sleeping like a top
Under a marble flag?
I carry the sun in a golden cup.
The moon in a silver bag.
I thought it out this very day.
Noon upon the clock,
A man may put pretence away
Who leans upon a stick,
May sing, and sing until he drop,
Whether to maid or hag:
I carry the sun in a golden cup,
The moon in a silver bag.
poem by William Butler Yeats
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Excelsior
When the moon is full and bright
And its charm is falling down,
Every roof you see in town
Is a puddle filled with light.
In the night that's looking blue
Silver rain superbly shines,
Like a dream of lofty rhymes,
Lovely tunes, and whispers, too.
From the starry worlds on high
Magic comes now here below
And envelops nice and slow
The sad valley of the cry.
When the golden dust is great,
Flowers shine and stars are bright,
What bad thoughts can dim the light,
And what dragon, and what fate?
Nature, sky, and God of love,
Dark blue mystery of life!
I don't mind the curse and strife
For you've lifted me above.
poem by Alexandru Macedonski, translated by Octavian Cocoş
Submitted by anonym
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A Big Golden Moon!
2010 Moon is revolving round the Earth bright in closer orbit
Making Solar eclipse look like ring fire and not diamond ring!
Often golden Moon rise lasts longer before it becomes silver
In the evenings bigger in size than usual on Full Moon days!
Big golden Moon shines bright yellow long in the winter
With the Sky clear having no clouds indicating last phase;
But heavy chill wind blows cold making all shiver despite
They walk brisk sans slackening the pace a little to the end!
Becoming Sun like silver light, Moon attains brilliant beauty
Changing Sea into Milky Way of Universe similar to Vaikunda,
The abode of Lord Vishnu, God of protection of the good people
And His consort Goddess Lakshmi giver of wealth to mankind!
Big golden Moon becoming silver Moon inspires hope and joy
Confirming confidence to all to survive, sustain and succeed ever!
poem by Ramesh T A
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Liberty Rejected
About this heart thou hast
Thy chains made fast,
And think'st thou I would be
Therefrom set free,
And forth unbound be cast?
The ocean would as soon
Entreat the moon
Unsay the magic verse
That seals him hers
From silver noon to noon.
She stooped her pearly head
Seaward, and said:
'Would'st thou I gave to thee
Thy liberty,
In Time's youth forfeited?'
And from his inmost hold
The answer rolled:
'Thy bondman to remain
Is sweeter pain,
Dearer an hundredfold.'
poem by William Watson
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Black Swan
(1947) gian carlo menotti
The sun is falling and it lies in blood
The moon is weaving bandages of gold
Old black swan where oh where is my lover now
Where oh where is my lover now
Torn and tattered is my bridal gown and my lamp is lost
With silver needles and with silver threads
The stars stitch a route for the dying sun
Old black swan where oh where is my lover now
I had given him a kiss and a golden ring
And a golden ring
I had given him a kiss of fire and a golden ring
Oh with silver needles and with silver threads
The stars stitch a route for the dying sun
Black wing o black wing take me down with you
Take me down with you take me down with you
Take me down with you
Old black swan take me down with you
I had given him a kiss of fire
Take me down with you
song performed by by Nina Simone
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Silver
Slowly, silently, now the moon
Walks the night in her silver shoon;
This way, and that, she peers, and sees
Silver fruit upon silver trees;
One by one the casements catch
Her beams beneath the silvery thatch;
Couched in his kennel, like a log,
With paws of silver sleeps the dog;
From their shadowy cote the white breasts peep
Of doves in silver feathered sleep
A harvest mouse goes scampering by,
With silver claws, and silver eye;
And moveless fish in the water gleam,
By silver reeds in a silver stream.
poem by Walter de la Mare
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Farewell
Not soon shall I forget--a sheet
Of golden water, cold and sweet,
The young moon with her head in veils
Of silver, and the nightingales.
A wain of hay came up the lane--
O fields I shall not walk again,
And trees I shall not see, so still
Against a sky of daffodil!
Fields where my happy heart had rest,
And where my heart was heaviest,
I shall remember them at peace
Drenched in moon-silver like a fleece.
The golden water sweet and cold,
The moon of silver and of gold,
The dew upon the gray grass-spears,
I shall remember them with tears.
poem by Katharine Tynan
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Mute silence
What can be taken as granted?
What can be dreamt of and wanted?
Why there can be no meeting ground?
A satisfactory answer has to be found
We are not made of fleshes and bones alone
The old philosophy remains there but actually gone
How some of the feeling can barely remain unexpressed?
When sentiments are not at all understood and faced
I watched her move freely like bird
With all that she had and silently heard
I was listening to the noise from river flow
How silently it flowed with zigzag way to go!
I wanted her to come close and speak
But could do nothing as if felt weak
She had all the glamour to influence
I waited eagerly for the golden chance
I thought of dead silence
Where even pin dropp can be heard at once
Words murmured can be caught up with lips movement
Eyes can do the rest with inviting moment
Let nothing is spoken
Only gesture can be known as token
What must be understood from silent move?
Nothing except love has to prove
I may not feel like to look at her
Yet her presence can be felt near
Fragrance that air pulls along the gentle blow
The happiness and joy can reflect and show
I would wish black nights to enter
The stars and moon can sit at the center
Only silver rays can spread its influence
Rest all can be followed with mute silence
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Deaf and Speechless
What can be taken as granted?
What can be dreamt of and wanted?
Why there can be no meeting ground?
A satisfactory answer has to be found
We are not made of fleshes and bones alone
The old philosophy remains there but actually gone
How some of the feeling can barely remain unexpressed?
When sentiments are not at all understood and faced
I watched her move freely like bird
With all that she had and silently heard
I was listening to the noise from river flow
How silently it flowed with zigzag way to go!
I wanted her to come close and speak
But could do nothing as if felt weak
She had all the glamour to influence
I waited eagerly for the golden chance
I thought of dead silence
Where even pin dropp can be heard at once
Words murmured can be caught up with lips movement
Eyes can do the rest with inviting moment
Let nothing is spoken
Only gesture can be known as token
What must be understood from silent move?
Nothing except love has to prove
I may not feel like to look at her
Yet her presence can be felt near
Fragrance that air pulls along the gentle blow
The happiness and joy can reflect and show
I would wish black nights to enter
The stars and moon can sit at the center
Only silver rays can spread its influence
Rest all can be followed with mute silence
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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Spring's Sonnet
The golden dust of the sad moon,
Sifts musical notes all around,
I listen to this simple tune,
Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound.
White angels play the violin,
The yellow birds sing a new song,
The party's on, the fun begins,
Red flowers smiling, come along.
Blue butterflies dancing with me,
Old stars come down to kiss the earth,
New silver bells ring... Victory!
Snowdrops announce the new Spring birth.
Cherry blossom rise in splendor,
As the winter slow surrender!
poem by Marius Alexandru (March 2020)
Submitted by anonym
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Spring's Sonnet
The golden dust of the sad moon,
Sifts musical notes all around,
I listen to this simple tune,
Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound.
White angels play the violin,
The yellow birds sing a new song,
The party’s on, the fun begins,
Red flowers smiling, come along.
Blue butterflies dancing with me,
Old stars come down to kiss the earth,
New silver bells ring… Victory!
Snowdrops announce the new Spring birth.
Cherry blossom rise in splendor,
As the winter slow surrender!
poem by Marius Alexandru (2 February 2020)
Submitted by anonym
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Winter Uplands
The frost that stings like fire upon my cheek,
The loneliness of this forsaken ground,
The long white drift upon whose powdered peak
I sit in the great silence as one bound;
The rippled sheet of snow where the wind blew
Across the open fields for miles ahead;
The far-off city towered and roofed in blue
A tender line upon the western red;
The stars that singly, then in flocks appear,
Like jets of silver from the violet dome,
So wonderful, so many and so near,
And then the golden moon to light me home--
The crunching snowshoes and the stinging air,
And silence, frost, and beauty everywhere.
poem by Archibald Lampman
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Power Of Silence
In silence the flower buds gently bloom,
In silence they waft their sweet perfume.
In silence grows the blades of grass,
In silence I pen down my verse.
Speech is silver, silence gold,
Good deeds silently performed,
Is more eloquent than words!
In silence lovers cuddle and sleep,
True love communicates through
oceans deep!
Look at the mountains towering so high,
Clouds kiss their tops and silently
float by!
In silence the monks move their prayer
beads,
In silence they perform their charitable deeds.
In silence the sun rises and shine,
In silence the moon beams softly smiles.
In silence my God I invoke,
In silence rise my incense smoke.
In silence my inner-self unfolds,
In silent prayer my hands I fold.
In silence, with Him I communicate,
In silence I surrender to my fate.
In silence I beg Him to make me whole,
In silence to Him I surrender my soul!
In our noise polluted world, silence is
difficult to find,
But I know, one day, this Silence shall be
mine!
Blue Moon
Blue moon is ‘a' rising
Shining so blue surprising
Is it me or is it you?
That makes your shade so blue?
Blue moon it's ‘a' crying
Why so sad, am I prying?
Blue moon weep not for me
Shine your glory for all to see
Blue moon full in ‘a' glory
So many shades you have tell your story
Silver and blood and now you are blue
What prey tell decides your hue?
Blue moon is ‘a' glow
Your blue face on show
Smile down on me now
For a smile from you will show me how
Blue moon is such ‘a' rarity
Your secrets kept within your entity
Locked away in your heart of hearts
Your magic never ends once it starts
Blue moon is ‘a' gone
How I admired you as you shone
You're off to sleep for another day
But in my dreams you will always stay…
poem by Deep Dark Soul Poet
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Granny's Angel
In my grand baby world she
Dream of pink butterflies and
Angel with golden wings playing
And singing sweet lullabies
She dream of sweet sugar plums
And lollipops dancing around her
Head
She dream of fairies, white doves
And pink butterflies
With wings tips of gold
Gold and silver dust sprinkling
Down as they open their wings
She dream of little fairies tickling
Little feet
Her joy shows as her laughter cries
Out
Bouncing around with little fairies
Playing and singing sweet lullabies
Her eyes of blue, as deep as the sky
Looking up at the golden half moon
Hanging so high
Stars of silver and golden threads flickers
Durning the night
Unicorns and fairies playing in a
Field of clovers
With pink ribbons and bows
She dreams of pink butterflies as she lay
In her crib sleeping
Dreaming of sweet nothings
Fairies, butterflies and little
Angels with unicorns in her world
As she sleeps in her little world
Where fantasy is true
Her little sisters and brothers
All angels in heavens
Where her world is all but a beautiful
Dream
As she grow and flourish to be a wife
A mother
And tell her stories to her children in
The future
Dedicated To My Grand Baby Miya
poem by Carolyn Sears
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