He stares at the blank page of his notebook, wondering what he should write about next. As he stares into the blank page, he suddenly gets an idea and opens the curtains of his window to reveal the moon shining brightly at him. He reaches out and grabs at the moonbeams as he wakes up in the same position where he started. Filled with the inspiration of moonbeams and empty pages waiting to be written on, he grabs his pen and starts spindling poetry.
This poem is definitely a bit self-reflected on its writer (me, duh) but I felt that the sudden uprisings in my moon-related poetry needed a poem of its own
They stare at me, with questioning eyes. They wonder why I always look so tired, but in reality, I've never felt better. Last night I was able to speak with you again, tell you of my troubles and bathe in your light. They will never understand but that doesn't matter, for as long as I have you. I can handle the waking world just to have another chance to enjoy your company in a state of reality I don't belong in.
This is a little poem that's more personal than most of my original works, considering that I recently accepted the fact that I love the moon
I confess to you and only you, lady moon highest in the sky, to take my fears and insecurities and keep them with you throughout your path in the night sky. For when Daybreak comes, those fears I hold close to me will be protected from the burning light of the sun. For when Daybreak comes, the secrets I've shared with you will be shielded and safe under the dim light of your moonbeams. For when Daybreak comes, Nobody but you and I will know of the secrets I've kept with you.
I've been tapping into my selenophile side lately whenever I start writing poems of my own work. This is the result of almost two months of wanting to write about the moon