The Moon

We are the waxen crescent feast of star shine
the poetic moon groom,
the romantic echo of sun
while it murmurs in swishing tide of peaceful sleep
each half of the heart drawn by the moonlit *****
strolling the Titanic proportionate
a two headed bobbing horizon lost at sea
could you dream of me in dune songs
whispering tomorrow dawning in summer sonnets
could you think of me possibly
when ever you gaze up at a waxing Moon.

I read that he lost a suitcase full of manuscripts on a
train and that they never were recovered.
I can't match the agony of this
but the other night I wrote a 3-page poem
upon this computer
and through my lack of diligence and
practice
and by playing around with commands
on the menu
I somehow managed to erase the poem
forever.
believe me, such a thing is difficult to do
even for a novice
but I somehow managed to do
it.

now I don't think this 3-pager was immor-
tal
but there were some crazy wild lines,
now gone forever.
it bothers more than a touch, it's some-
thing like knocking over a good bottle of
wine.

and writing about it hardly makes a good
poem.
still, I thought somehow you'd like to
know?

if not, at least you've read this far
and there could be better work
down the line.

let's hope so, for your sake
and
mine.

When I am old
and still alive
like embers in the ashes I
will burn the hands
of all who try
to tidy up too soon...

Summer flowers, all the tiny petals
are colored stars falling to the river
floating in a watery heaven
sailing far beyond this day
into nothingness
into everything seen
like blood red petals
that mingle with
autumn's moon

Go sit up all night
Go sit up on the Arm's Wall

I am going to take it all in
And think about it all

The moon light on the water
Striking me in the eye

Mighty Blue Heron
Under intermittent sky

Ducks knocking back shellfish
Fuelling up for the flight into the fall

Here I sit, quiet, on a stone
So glad to be here on the Arm's wall

It’s a Spring Tide drowning me
It’s a Full Moon, the sun and gravity
Pulling on the water of the ocean
I’ve been cast out in
Through denying my truth.
I cannot know if the flooding
Covering all of me
Will be as predictable as such a tide
Twice each Lunar month
No season negates the pull.
The rise and fall of the oceans levels
Feel more visible in me
Than any sea on earth.        

© Sia Jane

Elegant gowns, sundresses, skirts or lingerie
I look forward to seeing you in and out of all of them!