Beggar's Moon
................................
“The night walked down the sky
with the moon in her hand.”
-Frederic Lawrence Knowles
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A calm stillness
Hangs over the waters,
Not a ripple,
Not a wave.
Even the breeze
Waits, listening to
The night,
Waiting for that one gentle
Wonder that brings it back
To the here and now,
Back to life.
The beggars moon dances
Her reflection from
The black quiet
Of the lake,
And in a distance
Fireflies drift
In and out
Through the
Knotted branches
Of the Oak
And Cottonwood.
There are raccoons about,
Mindless of our presence,
Exploring the beachfront,
Teasing the waters edge,
Leaving soft footprints
In the wet earth, and
Turning the abandoned,
Rotting wood over
In a curious hunt
For movement.
A mockingbird calls out,
Patiently listens for its
Echo. But there is no echo,
Only the evensong
Of night crickets
And evening toads.
There are geese overhead,
Taking their flight
And unconcerned
Adventure
Shadows them tonight.
And that soft,
winding breeze
Serenades us.
With November frost staring
Us down.
Copyright © 2008 Richard D. Remler
Aye, this invites a recommending for the wonderful imagery subtly creating that irresistible romantic scene what heart does not pine to taste? Via mere words, sans the reality, we just catch its flavour, delighting in its beauty. Excellent, lovely, superb.
Another gem.... quite simply a lovely picture you have painted.....Jerry (*_*)
so beautiful recommended
That is a nice poem