The Moon and the Shooting Stars
The moon and the shooting stars
Roses dancing in a cool summer breeze- and
A daffodil towers above the rosebuds-
I was once a lost soul.
I recall childhood days when
I picked those roses and made a bouquet-
Placed it haphazardly upon my mother’s desk-
I still thought of that lonesome daffodil
Its petals wavering in a burst of wind-
The chair at my mother’s desk is empty-
The desk itself is barren-
It was twenty years ago that my mother passed away-
The wind is the force that is against me-
The rain now falling is my tears-
The thunder is the rage seething inside of me, and
Lightening is my strength that shall strike
All those that try to harm me-
The sun sets and the moon appears over the horizon,
Rose petals flutter about and
I am that daffodil standing against the force of the wind-
Night descends and the moon and the shooting stars
Glimmer in the dark summer’s nighttime sky-
My mother is gone like the rose petals are now and
I am no longer a lost soul-but
I have become a woman and am like
That daffodil that stands tall against the force of
The wind that gusts before a storm arrives-
Claudia Krizay
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 8:40 PM UTC
The Moon and the Shooting Stars
The moon and the shooting stars
Roses dancing in a cool summer breeze- and
A daffodil towers above the rosebuds-
I was once a lost soul.
I recall childhood days when
I picked those roses and made a bouquet-
Placed it haphazardly upon my mother’s desk-
I still thought of that lonesome daffodil
Its petals wavering in a burst of wind-
The chair at my mother’s desk is empty-
The desk itself is barren-
It was twenty years ago that my mother passed away-
The wind is the force that is against me-
The rain now falling is my tears-
The thunder is the rage seething inside of me, and
Lightening is my strength that shall strike
All those that try to harm me-
The sun sets and the moon appears over the horizon,
Rose petals flutter about and
I am that daffodil standing against the force of the wind-
Night descends and the moon and the shooting stars
Glimmer in the dark summer’s nighttime sky-
My mother is gone like the rose petals are now and
I am no longer a lost soul-but
I have become a woman and am like
That daffodil that stands tall against the force of
The wind that gusts before a storm arrives-
Claudia Krizay
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