Moonlight Moth
When moonlight lit
Moth's light wings
It shone bit by bit
In deep silver strings
At moth's demise
Many moon lit swings
In well come improvise
It inverted things
It turned to grit
Silver wind disguise
And made moon a twilit
In its shining arise
poem by Pedro Cescon
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Related quotes
~Knight~
How dark that shadow you cast
over moonlight's silver strings,
You masked to blackest pitch
it is the night you bring.
Under moon high and laying low
within your raven wings,
I toss about throwing stars out
alighting far darkened things.
Wanes the moon who paled too soon
for knight his sword is swift,
When falls upon cleaves deep and long
until his darkness lifts.
7-1-06
version 2
How dark the shadow that's cast
upon moonlight's silver strings,
You, masked to blackest pitch
It is the night you bring.
Under moon high and laying low
within your raven wings,
Tossing about, burning stars out
Blacken far-darkened things.
Waning moon who pales too soon
The knight, his sword sinks swift,
When falls upon cleaves deep and long...
Until his darkness lifts.
poem by Sinnaminsun Sinnaminsun
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Daydream
Shining in the silver moon,
Crystal ships are sailing to the sea.
Dreams the joys of pearls and gold,
And our angels wings in flight unfold.
Fly, fly by my window,
Flyin so free, yeah.
Yes, they fly, fly by my window.
Yes, those bright diamonds a-once were stone,
Rollin down a silver stream.
Yes, those bright diamonds a-once were stone.
Sail on a silver wings of fire,
Sailing dreams beyond the silver moon.
In silver clouds that fly so high,
Live the dreams you search,
But cant find.
(chorus)
song performed by by Journey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Oh Sweet Silver Moon
Oh sweet silver moon
Tell your lies
Let me drown in the tears your cry
Even if just for tonight
Oh sweet silver moon
Sing me your song of sorrow
Let me drown in your dark voice
Even if just for tonight
Oh sweet silver moon
Lend me your eyes
So that I may see as you see
Even if just for tonight
Oh sweet silver moond
Tell me the stories of your past
So that I may know your darkness
Even if just for tonight
Oh sweet silver moon
Let me feel your misty beams
Flow over my pail skin
Even if just for tonight
For tomorrow I shall be gone
As your sweet beams fade
I will give myself to the eternal sun
And my ashes shall scatter to the wind...
(2006)
poem by Lauren Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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The Good Inn
What care if the day
Be turned to gray,
What care if the night come soon!
We may choose the pace
Who bow for grace
At the Inn of the Silver Moon.
Ah, hurrying Sirs,
Drive deep your spurs,
For it's far to the steepled town -
Where the wallet's weight
Shall fix your state
And buy for ye smile or frown.
Through our tiles of green
Do the stars between
Laugh down from the skies of June,
And there's naught to pay
For a couch of hay
At the Inn of the Silver Moon.
You laboring lout,
Pull out, pull out,
With a hand to the creaking tire,
For it's many a mile
By path and stile
To the old wife crouched by the fire.
But the door is wide
In the hedgerow side,
And we ask not bowl nor spoon
Whose draught of must
Makes soft the crust
At the Inn of the Silver Moon.
Then, here's to the Inn
Of the empty bin,
To the Host of the trackless dune!
And here's to the friend
Of the journey's end
At the Inn of the Silver Moon.
poem by Herman K Viele
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Last Lunar Eclipse
Autumn came in mild and sweet, the Harvest Moon was due.
I sat beside an open window, until it came into view
A soft breeze played across my face, like zephyrs from Angel's Wings.
The stars shone brightly in the sky, bright, Heavenly, Cosmic Things.
The moon, majestically on high, rose over mountains yonder,
And filled the valley with it's light, my heart o'erflowed with wonder.
The Big Dipper shone so brightly, anticipating, it seems.
That it would fill it's ladle, with liquid silver moon beams.
Then Mother Earth did her own thing, She covered moon, stars and clouds,
Like some great, living creature, being covered by a shroud.
The moon was round and reddish, like a ripe peach in the sky,
Still great, in all it's glory, it seemed to make Earth sigh.
Then the lovely Harvest Moon, came to us one again,
The last eclipse of this century, this enigma, so witnessed by man.
poem by Gloria Huntington
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Seven Deadly Sins: Envy
The sun gazed in silence upon the silver moon,
Jealous and angry that the moon shone every night.
In silent envy, she impatiently waits
For the moon to move, and for it to be her turn to emerge.
But eventually,
She ran out of patience.
She demanded of the moon
That she be allowed to come-out.
But the wise moon refused.
“All things must run its course.
If the moon was to be thrown from the sky,
What would become of night? ”
“I would rule the night! ” Declared the sun,
In all her foolishness.
“Then the night and the day would be one.
Then, the world would certainly be a better place! ”
And the moon shook its head in pity
At the sun, so jealous of what the moon had.
“You don’t seem to realize, ” said the moon with a tearful sigh,
“That I am just a reflection of you.”
poem by Katie Jensen
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The moth hound
Of a coon hound
you have heard
there's plenty around
i have found
a very strange dog
who's nothing, but a moth hound
when ever, you see
he sees a moth near by
the moth trys to flee,
it isn't no match
as my dog goes after the moth,
and makes a wonderful catch
he eats it all the way
and chews and swallows
he looks at me, now he wants to play
The Moon's Pilgrimage...
Moon’s Pilgrimage … Across The Sky To Praise
The Maker and All His Wondrous Ways
Moon’s Pilgrimage … Rises High, In Grace
Yet, Still In A Humble – Pilgrim’s Place
Moon’s Pilgrimage … Will Not Betray
All The Moonlight, GOD Lets Display
Tho’ She Moves In His Cosmic-Stage-Play
From His Theme-Theatre, She Will Not Stray
My Pilgrimage … Thru Deep, Dark Space
With Silver-Wings and Beams, I Chase
The Unknown and Known Questions Raised
Will Be Answered, When The Maker Says …
My Pilgrimage … To Touch Heaven’s Face
That Beauteous, Elusive, Mysterious Trace
Borne At The Blessed-Beginning’s Base
My Pilgrimage … Takes Me There To Pray …
My Pilgrimage … Takes Me There To Pay –
My Vows, My Voice, In Vesper-Vase
As This Moon, Is In Harvest – Phase
And Beams Brighter Now … Tho’ Slanted-Gaze
… The Moon … Glowing Ochre-Gold Or Silver
The Moon … Is Making Pilgrimage, Remember
The Moon … Is Trying To Help Deliver
Lost-Souls, Who Can Not Find … Moon River …
… Moon’s Pilgrimage … Keeps Steady Pace
Even Climbing Thru Dense, Cloudy-Lace
Moon’s Pilgrimage … Is Like A Dance, That Sways
Moon’s Pilgrimage … Into The Night’s Embrace … …
(… and A Pilgrim’s Lips, Will Bring An Eclipse Soon –
In A Pilgrimage – Across The Moon …)
poem by MoonBee Canady
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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The Pool
COME with me, follow me, swift as a moth,
Ere the wood-doves waken.
Lift the long leaves and look down, look down
Where the light is shaken,
Amber and brown,
On the woven ivory roots of the reed,
On a floating flower and a weft of weed
And a feather of froth.
Here in the night all wonders are,
Lapped in the lift of the ripple's swing,–
A silver shell and a shaken star,
And a white moth's wing.
Here the young moon when the mists unclose
Swims like the bud of a golden rose.
I would live like an elf where the wild grapes cling,
I would chase the thrush
From the red rose-berries.
All the day long I would laugh and swing
With the black choke-cherries.
I would shake the bees from the milkweed blooms,
And cool, O cool,
Night after night I would leap in the pool,
And sleep with the fish in the roots of the rush.
Clear, O clear my dreams should be made
Of emerald light and amber shade,
Of silver shallows and golden glooms.
Sweet, O sweet my dreams should be
As the dark, sweet water enfolding me
Safe as a blind shell under the sea.
poem by Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
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I Got The Sun In The Morning
Taking stock of what I have and what I haven't
What do I find?
The things I got will keep me satisfied
Checking up on what I have and what I haven't
What do I find?
A healthy balance on the credit side
Got no diamond
Got no pearl
Still I think I'm a lucky girl
I got the sun in the morning and the moon at night
I got the sun in the morning and the moon at night
Got no mansion
Got no yacht
Still I'm happy with what I got
I got the sun in the morning and the moon at night
I got the sun in the morning and the moon at night
Sunshine
Gives me a lovely day
Moonlight
Gives me the Milky Way
Got no checkbooks
Got no banks
Still I'd like to express my thanks
I got the sun in the morning and the moon at night
I got the sun in the morning and the moon at night
And with the sun in the morning
And the moon in the evening
I'm all right
[2]
Got no mansion
Got no yacht
Still I'm happy with what I got
I got the sun in the morning and the moon at night
I got the sun in the morning and the moon at night
Got no silver
Got no gold
What I got can't be bought or sold
I got the sun in the morning and the moon at night
I got the sun in the morning and the moon at night
Sunshine
Gives me a lovely day
Moonlight
Gives me the Milky Way
Got no checkbooks
Got no banks
Still I'd like to express my thanks
I got the sun in the morning and the moon at night
And with the sun in the morning
And the moon in the evening
I'm all right
[3]
Sunshine
Gives me a lovely day
Moonlight
Gives me the Milky Way
Got no heirlooms
For my kin
Made no will but when I cash in
I leave the sun in the morning and the moon at night
And with the sun in the morning
And the moon in the evening they're all right
song performed by by Irving Berlin
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Shining In The Moonlight
I can feel the heat rising up inside of me
I can still remember how one touch baby feel
And thinking of that night
The light of the moon
The feeling never fades
It ended too soon
Standing in a broken dream
Calling on your fantasies
Looking for the magic land
In here eyes
Shining in the moonlight
Looking for love
Shining in the moonlight
Looking for you
Shining in the moonlight
But Im still alone
A victim of that night
For eternity
Drifting like a summer wind
A memory inside of me
Standing in the broken dream
Calling on your fantasies
Looking for a magic land
Tryin to find it in her eyes
Whoaaohh
Shining in the moonlight
Looking for love
Shining in the moonlight
Hungry for you
Shining in the moonlight
Shining in the moonlight
Shining in the moonlight
Shining in the moonlight
Shining in the moonlight
song performed by by Jefferson Starship
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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In the Moonlight
The moon is bright, and the winds are laid, and the river is roaring by;
Orion swings, with his belted lights low down in the western sky;
North and south from the mountain gorge to the heart of the silver plain
There’s many an eye will see no sleep till the east grows bright again;
There’s many a hand will toil to-night, from the centre down to the sea;
And I’m far from the men I used to know—and my love is far from me.
Where the broad flood eddies the dredge is moored to the beach of shingle white,
And the straining cable whips the stream in a spray of silver light;
The groaning buckets bear their load, and the engine throbs away,
And the wash pours red on the turning screen that knows not night or day;
For there’s many an ounce of gold to save, from the gorge to the shining sea—
And there’s many a league of the bare brown hills between my love and me.
Where the lines of gorse are parched and dry, and the sheaves are small and thin,
The engine beats and the combine sings to the drays that are leading in,
For they’re thrashing out of the stook to-night, and the plain is as bright as day,
And the fork-tines flash as the sheaves are turned on the frame of the one-horse dray;
For many a hand will toil to-night, from the mountains down to the sea;—
But I’m far from the lips of the girl I love, and the heart that beats for me.
The trappers are out on the hills to-night, and the sickly lantern-shine
Is mocking the gleam of the silver moon in the scrub on the long trap-line;
The tallies are big on the rock-strewn spur, and the rattling clink of the chain
Comes weirdly mixed from the moon-bright hill with the whistling shriek of pain;
For many a hand will toil to-night where the tussocks are waving free;—
But it’s over the hills and over the plain to the heart that beats for me.
The stars are bright, and the night is still, and the river is singing by,
And many a face is upward turned to gaze at the moon’s bright eye.
North and south, from the forest deeps to the heart of the silver plain,
There’s many an eye will see no sleep till the east grows bright again;
There’s many a hand will toil to-night by shining land and sea.
O moonlight, bear my message of love to the heart that beats for me.
poem by David McKee Wright
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Singular Duality for M lay Catrina
The moon against the blue black night
A symbol of serenity
Bathes the world with silver light
a touch of surreality.
Far different to the world by day
which has no time for fantasy
The boring hum drum everyday
view of the world that most folks see.
The moonlight stimulates our dreams.
The interplay of light and shade
where nothing is quite as it seems.
The stuff of which all dreams are made.
The silver moon light can create
a moving tapestry of dreams
Produce in us a trance like state
and blend together without seams
reality and fantasy
Two worlds existing side by side
the moon somehow mysteriously
their difference can override.
I seize each opportunity
to see the shadows as they dance.
The moonlit night providing me
the time and place and circumstance.
26/04/2009
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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What nonsense is this?
I see the moon, the moon sees me but she sees more than I can see.
I am earth bound I cannot fly but she serenely floats on high
and bathes world in silver light. Which can relieve the darkest night.
She grants to all men equally, sufficient light for them to see.
The cloak of darkness does not hide, lying in wait for prey outside
werewolves, vampires, ghosts and ghouls. The flying predators are owls,
that haunt the night on noiseless wings in search of mice and smaller things.
The silver moonlight reassures to some extent but does not cure.
ancestral fears. Although far fetched are nonetheless so deeply etched
in the collective memories of human kind. The vague unease
which is still felt by men today when darkness falls and night holds sway.
Of course does not apply to us, just to the superstitious.
18-Aug-08
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Struggle with Darkness
The sun set and it was being dark,
A pitch dark night had fallen,
No light was there nor any spark,
A star shone at all of sudden,
And found all his friends sleeping,
He went and tried them awake,
One of them got up from his sleeping,
And asked why he made him awake.
Asked him making the earth light,
Cause there had fallen a dark night,
But, his reply was then shown,
'What can be done, O friend! Alone?
Without the moon we are what?
Against the darkness can't be fought,
Let's go to awake our moon
The earth may it light up soon.'
They both reached the moon and found,
The moon was lying on the ground,
And appeared, she was not fine,
Cause she had drunk the evil wine,
Unfair gifts had she been given,
For shining not in dark night,
Forgot she, her duty at all of sudden,
And let the inhabitents of earth fight.
The moon ordered them to go and sleep,
'What's the use for them weep?
We'll be given gifts for this deed,
And on duty we find nothing indeed.
'Second' of both agreed with the moon,
He went and slept very soon,
'First' was worried, but nothing spake,
And he put himself at stake.
He went respectively to each stars and;
Requested them to get up and shine,
Initially they were afraid being mixed in sand,
At last they all accepted his wine,
All of them when began to shine,
Like the ornaments of the sky,
The moon felt a tasteless wine,
On herself she was shy.
Getting up, the moon begged sorry to all,
And she shone at full of her might,
Lighten up was every mount, forest and wall,
And became silver the whole sight.
This revolution if on the earth befall,
No country would be worried but delight,
Be alive, no of your leaders can thee enthrall,
But know the deference between Black and White.
25/02/07
poem by Mohammad Muzzammil
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Oriental selection
Bare winter branches
beneath the moon wreathed in mist.
Seem to bloom again.
Echoes of memories foresee
future in the past.
In the soft moonlight
blossoms from the cherry tree
Scattered on the ground.
purpose served, hey leave the stage
Autumn will grant them honour.
Sharp edged shadows cast
by the brilliant winter moon
on the earth below.
Poetry written on the snow
only lovers understand
The wind stirs the reeds
making music by moonlight.
Plaintive melodies
the wind needs no audience.
the moon listens silently.
The moon my lantern
the scent of blossom lingers
The moon lights my way
I walk beside the water
yesterday is gone.
Sun sets, moon rises
constant repetition
She follows her lord
Night without moonlight
restless spirits walk abroad
seeking solace.
Moonlight soothes my soul
as I meditate alone.
Trees whisper to me.
A pond holds the moon
why should the mind of man do less
achieving stillness
Gently moonlight falls
like silver rain silently
lotus blossom sing.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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